He who dies with the most toys is still dead
by glittergoddess13
Summary: Things turned deadly, when Vodoo spells unleash toy hell. The boys may end up being the playthings. Teletubies, Barney, Elmo, Slip N' Slides, Hello Kitty, Gumballs, etc. Some revenge for any of us who had to live through toy crazes! Banter! Limp! Snark!
1. The yellow Racer

* * *

A whirlpool of wind made a crackle of thunder sounded and soon the spinning action took Dean around with it. The jump rope laced at his feet dug in deep, refusing to release, as he dangled, leg first, helpless to get out of the way of whatever was coming. Dizzily he spun, body whipping against the secure nature of his fastened, now wrenching leg. "Get it off! Get it off! " He felt his leg start to pop, crying to break free from his socket and a shattering sensation lancing up his right thigh.

The persistent grinding at his bone joint grew blinding hot as flashes of black and purple begun to form. Spots formed permanent resident on his eyes, stealing vision and inducing nausea. The only sensation he registered was pain- throbbing, aching, and burning. The rest of his leg quivered with torture, and blood and perspiration collected, pouring down his leg.

* * *

**4 Months earlier............**

Not even the grumbles of his annoyed daughter could spoil Jalil Chamani's mood today. A smile of supreme satisfaction swung upon his lips as he proudly strutted through his family owned toy shop. His dream of one day passing _The Toy Box_ to his daughter lightened his mind for the first time in what seemed like years. For a time, that dream washed away in a literal storm. He never thought he would see the toy store threatened, but Hurricane Katrina had ravaged their business like so many others, leaving bits of broken dreams and shards of a past life under layers of mud, muck, and flood water. As hard as it is to believe, he had been lucky that day. He and his sweet, Nadiya,made it through of the storm. His little shop, unluckily, had not been as fortunate. He shuttered thinking about what they went through that day and the many friends and neighbors they lost, letting himself linger in the painful memories. Shaking away the past, he only wanted to focus on the future now. He was a survivor, after all.

However bleak, he never gave one thought about not rebuilding. This store was his home-his life. His life could start again, even if it was in some bastardized way. Part of him felt betrayed as his daughter stocked the shelf with manufactured toys, always priding himself on hand-making all of his toy creations. But, times being what they were, he had to compromise. Hand-made toys were not as in demand as the bells, beeps, and electronic toys of the day. Plus, the cost of rebuilding was more than any assistance they received and the store was already mortgaged before the storm came. They had used every bit of insurance and federal money just to get restarted. He would be picky later, when the banks were less forgiving and not breathing down his neck as if they were about to crawl under his skin. Now, was the time to survive. If it meant a little commercialism, he would have to shallow his pride this once.

"POPS! Earth to Pops!" Nadiya yipped for the thirteenth time.

Jalil sheepishly snapped back to focus on his daughter, who had taken the year off from Tulane University to help him scrape back a life. He didn't know what filled him with more glee: his daughter going to college on a full scholarship or the incredible size of her heart. Yet, neither pride nor love stopped him from teasing her as he watched her struggle with a Teletubby display. "It's a sign chere... dhose dhings be creepy to begin witdh. Now, tdey jump off the sdhelves tdemselves."

"Pops, I need your help 'ere! Not chore mumbo jumbo!"

Pops laughed harder as an avalanche of rainbow colored, talking, plushies spilled over his frustrated child.

"Oh... you tdink dis is funny."

"F'sure. It's cute as a bug in a rug when ya loose da control and speak with chore native tongue. Be proud of chore heritage, Chere."

"I am proud of my heritage. And I do not have an accent." Nadiya controlled her speaking in a slow and steady rhythm.

"Whatever you say, Chere, but one day... ya may not mind where ya come from." He mocked his daughter's careful unaccented tone as best he could. "Ya Mamma would say da same if she were 'ere."

The last of the rainbow toys fell from the rack and Nadiya screamed. Her father just chuckled.

"You tdink... you think you are funny!" She snapped playfully at her father.

"I tdink I am damn funny! All part of da chawm I have cultivated fir years... "Chew gonna clean dat up, 'r what?

"Charm! Charm... my as…"

"Now, now…" Jalil's mind had many more sardonic quips to lob back and forth to his daughter, but no more would be said that day.

The front door swung open as widely as it could, yet a portly man still had to turn sideways to enter. Jalil would recognize the girth of Louis Teinturier anywhere. Of course, it was hard to miss the massive, sweating man. New Orleans was always balmy to say the least, but the lack of central air in most places sent a man like Louis in sweating fits. Jalil never had a problem with the large or obese, but Louis gave fat a bad name. Hell, Louis, gave humans and bankers a bad name. Somehow, Louis fit the stereotypical thought of a greedy banker. In truth, Louis had more money and spent too much time eating typical New Orleans cuisine.

"Ughhh..." Jalil grumbled not quite under his breath.

"Pop!!!" Nadiya stressed in a forceful whisper.

Reprimand or not, Jalil had little taste for men like Louis Teinturier."I'd say he wer a bottom feeder, but dat be an insult to tdem."

"Pops!" Nadiya mouthed a bit louder.

"Jalil, my friend…" Louis exaggerated, still pulling his ham chop of a leg in the door.

"I'm not chore friend, Teinturier. You da banker. A banker have no friends."

"Jalil, you cut me to the quick. Now, I come down here personal like to help you out. I know today is the grand opening and you would not want to be late with your loan payment."

"I see de blood suckers don't always come out dat night."

"POPS!" Her patience ran thin with her father. "Pfhh…..sorry…Sorry, Mr. Teinturier. Pops got up on the wrong side of de bed this morning." Although she pretended to be calm, the subtle showing of her accent, screamed she was not amused with the banker's presence either.

"You could learn some manners from your daughter, Jalil." The sweating man wrapped his one massive arm around the svelte woman, much to her dismay.

She shifted uncomfortable, removing herself from his arm. Under the ruse of getting his payment, and quite thankful of being out of the banker's grasp, she distance herself as far as she could. Her tiny hand stretched out fully, waving the check. Her feet stretched on tiptoes to extend the payment as far from her torso as possible. "Of course, we have de payment and we were on our way to de bank to pay. But, since you come all tdis way, I guess we can thank you for savin' us de trip." Nadiya handed over the check with a satisfaction almost as large as her father's was earlier.

"Thank you, my dear…" Louis snatched the paper, scrunching it at the center. Pulling it close to his sweat drenched face, practically salivating like a starved child in a candy store.

Jalil swore that Louis even sniffed it like it was honey suckled ham instead of a printed piece of paper. However, if it got him out of their hair on this day, he would ignore the man's greed.

"My… my... my… you seem to have forgotten something…your payment is a little short."

"It's de exact amount and chew know it!" Jalil screamed, no longer in the mood to play nice.

"Now, now… mind your ticker. You see, you signed a variable rate agreement and now the payment has increased. It goes up depending on the market. I am afraid you don't have enough to cover it with this."

"HOW MUCH MORE DO CHEW WANT BLOODSUCKER!"

"The payment needs to be $5000.00 more."

"You know we don't have tdat." Nadiya attempted to reason with Louis.

"Then, I am Afraid….afraid you will default on your loan then."

"Chew can't do TDIS!"

Regardless of the injustice of it, Louis had played the system well and he felt no need to justify his actions. Instead, he turned and shuffled sideways out the door. "I expect you to be out as soon as possible."

"Teinturier, chew Bastard!"

The tubby man waddled away, ignoring any desperate pleas of Jalil and Nadiya.

x-xx-x-x-x-x-xx—xx-x-x-x-x-x—x-xx

Later that night….

The wind twisted, swirling street debris into the alley directly behind the Toy Box. The grunge of the alley a far cry from the light-hearted playfulness Jalil created inside the store. Just beyond the alley, the sweet sounds of Ella Fitzgerald singing "Mood Indigo" played in a little jazz dive a few doors down. Her melancholy voice overshadowed the tourist noise of the French Quarter just a few streets away. Jalil found it fitting to hear sweet Ella's voice telling him that he "ain't been blue until you've had that Mood Indigo". Tonight, he was bluer than indigo, feeling the sense of impending doom at his door. A day that began with a celebration of living thorough adversity twisted into a day that saw all of it slip back away from him. Even if he sold all he owned in the store, he could not make enough to pay the debt.

So, he returned to his beloved store on the darkness night of his life to call upon his heritage. In truth, he was always a believer of the Vodun. He had moved away from the religion when Nadiya called it Mumbo Jumbo. Tonight, his heart full of sadness and need, he did the only thing he knew to do- Ask Papa Legba for assistance. He knelt at the backdoor of his shop, the best place for an altar in his mind, hoping the Loa would see his way to assist him.

The crooked, aged hands carefully lit two pillar candles: one black and one red. A small hand- woven small doll, crafted as lovingly as his toys, was placed in front of the two flickering pillars. To an outsider of the Vodun religion, they would be waiting for him to stick pushpins inside of the straw figure, giving Louis what he deserved. However, this representation was not mean to harm anyone, only to invoke Legba's protection. The straw limbs and torso supported a black face with hand-painted white features. A tiny straw hat perched upon the tiny figure's noggin.

"Odu Legba, Papa Legba, open the door, Your children are waiting. Papa Legba, open the door, your children await." Jalil chanted, speaking aloud. Then, he knelt quietly, meditating on his fondest wish to save _The Toy Box_. Gingerly, he placed offerings to Legba- candy, cigars, and tobacco, and then sprinkled palm oil over his make impromptu ceremony. "Odu Legba, Papa Legba, open the door, chore children are waiting. Papa Legba, open the door, chore children await."

The aged man sighed and rubbed his chest. He kept speaking to Legba, ignoring his aching chest. "Please Legba. I feel my very heart breaking." Something wasn't right. Jalil felt odd-no, his body felt odd like all his pep flittered away. The sensation made him miss the massive form, along with the few of New Orleans' finest, coming down the alley.

"Jalil!" The boisterous, demanding voice of Louis Teinturier boomed. "Officers, I want him arrested. He is trying to burn down the store... Just look at those candles and that satanic hoodoo he is setting up."

"Teinturier, chew an' idyot. Tdis is not burn..."

"You have to face facts. And being a desperate man is not going to help you. It's only going to get you in a world of trouble."

The air of smugness that clung to Louis set Jalil's blood to boil. "Louis…chew going to burn in de hell one day. Mark tdese words."

"Officer, did you hear him threaten me."

"Okay... let's remain calm. I am sorry sir but you have to come with us. The taller officer requested.

"LOUIS TEINT….ughh." Jalil staggered back and walked slowly, propping himself against the wall of his store. He swayed when he took a tiny painful step and grasped his arm."Jalil? JALIL, what's…"The two men stood in front of each other, waiting for someone to make the next move. The stalemate ended when Jalil staggered and collapsed inside of Louis' arms.

"JALIL!" Louis wobbled down to the brick street with Jalil, and cried out his name.

The pallor shifted to almost ivory underneath the sweaty skin. Jalil felt an uncomfortable pressure, squeezing in the center of the chest. Then, all feeling ceased and a gurgling final breath hissed out.

-x-x—x-x-x-x-xx-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x—x-xx—x-x-

TWO MONTHS LATER….

"Harold!"

Oblivious to the sounds of his partner in life and now in business, the clean-cut, well-dressed man eyed several bins of the left over toys.

"HAROLD!" Josh was about fed up with Harold's lack of interest in helping today.

"What?"

"I didn't rent this place to have you gawk at toys all day."

"Hey, what can I say, I am a big kid."

"Mom said I shouldn't marry you!" Josh laughed.

"You didn't marry me…I had the good taste to say NO!" Harold teased.

"That is so... SO... not funny! Now, help me clean some of these up. We have to get started on making our boutique."

"Whatever you say Josh, dearest love of my life." Harold's condescending tone dripped with sugar sweet sickness.

"Stop it! You only do that voice when you know you have pissed me off. And it only pisses me off more."

Harold chuckled. "But, you love me."

Josh just sighed and started carrying boxes into the back. "We can donate these things to charity tonight, if you move your ass." The voice trailed off in the distance with Harold still procrastinating and staring at a wooden carved toy soldier.

Suddenly an object moved upon his foot and he jumped back, holding back what Josh would call a girl scream. And, to scream would have made Harold feel tremendously foolish. A tiny toy racer, about the size of eyeglass case, annoyingly noised and bumped into his shoe. "HOLY SHIGGLES!" He would never hear the end of being frightened of a bunch of plastic, batteries, and lights. Josh had just stopped mentioning the time he thought the TV remote was a cellphone.

As Harold imagined what taunts this one could have caused, the little racer stopped. The lack of flashing lights and little whirls allowed him a moment to chuckle at himself.

"HARLOD!" Josh huffed from the back room.

"Okay… okay…" Harold turned from the car, kicking it against the far wall. He shook his head and took a few steps towards the counter. His eyes were drawn to another yellow racer upon the glass checkout counter with lights flashing and a small horn tooting. "Josh….didn't you clean the counter already."

"Yes!" The sing-song, exasperated voice floated back to the main part of the store.

"Okay...weird." Harold muttered and looked back to his original toy racer, but the toy was no longer against the far wall. "Okay… I am losing it... I just thought one of these toys moved. "

"Do dee do dew, do dee do dew…Twilight Zone. You have lost your little mind, Har..."

A huge sigh later and a head scratch, Harold admonished himself for feeling so silly. But, when he turned, the little car was gone. "Okay... very funny…Josh."

"What!" Josh's golden locks flung around the corner before his head peered beyond the door beam.

"That car…. I get it...I'll help."

"I don't know what dust bunnies you have been snorting…BUT…..When you get done with…" Josh flashed the air quotes. "Imagination Station… you can get those boxes and carry them in here." Josh popped back into the storage area, leaving Harold in his bewilderment and annoyance.

"Fine! Don't believe me!" Harold yelled, and then began to mutter. "… drama queen... pranking…why….do I put... up with…" As the maddened man took a step, the tiny toy racer whirled and smacked his foot again.

"Okay, Mr. Smartass. Let's see you remote control this thing without batteries." Bending down as if to tell Josh to kiss his ass, Harold flung the car from the floor, flipped it over, and yanked the battery door open. Huffily he turned, putting the batteries and car back on display at the counter as a trophy of victory. "See how you like those apples."

Then life got really weird, the racer started up again. Harold turned to the counter towards the sound.

"RrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrr..."

As his eyes locked to find the toy he just disassembled. Only the car was nowhere to be seen. Yet the noise continued- hollow as if the sound locked inside Harold's ears. The thoughts of Josh practical joking faded and a sense of dread took over. Joke or not, this was freaking him.

"Josh! JOSH!"

"What?"

"There's something wrong here… something VERY WRONG..." Harold hollered, already moving to join Josh. Somehow, if they were together, maybe the hairs on the back of his neck would go away. His eyes darted about the room, looking for the source of the sound.

"RrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrr..."

He walked backwards into a case and snapped around to see a teddy bear at eye level. The small bear's head turned, eyeing Harold. He jumped back more frightened, trying to find the scream he suppressed earlier. As he took that horrified step, the ball of his right foot found a presence, which sent him flying head first. The yellow blur jutted out from under the shoe as Harold crashed head first into the glass counter.

The smashing and crunching glass as his skull broke the fine plate glass and his groan of pain mingled. The momentum of the smash still allowed his head to snap back, reeling him towards the floor. The whoomp landing caused several toys to fall from the shelf.

"Harold, what in the world are you doing out here..." Josh playfully spouted before he saw Harold splayed on the floor, blood seeping from a laceration on his head. A yellow car whirled and bumped into the side of Harold's face, flashing lights at Harold's closed eyes. "HAROLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"RrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrr...RrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrr... . "RrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrr... "RrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrr..."

-x-x-x-xx-x-x-xx-x-x—x-x-x-x-


	2. CAR TIME OUT

_**Author's Note: Howdy! Well, I have been a busy gal as of late and not updating (Sorry Wench!) So I did a quick scene for you. It's not as verbose (aka long-winded) as I usually get but this **__**s**__**cene is the inspiration that sparked this whole story into being. **__**So, I hope you forgive the long gaps in my updating (not that I believe what I have to say is uber important-lol) **____**Please enjoy the fun that is going to come as time permits. **__**Plus, Sam and Dean get into the story, which is always good. Got to love those Winchesters! You know I do!**__** Please review cause I love you and I have Sam's lost shoe and I am not afraid to use it. If you want to see the shoe again, please send me a review, a pint of ice cream, and a rabbit's foot. Otherwise, you will never see the shoe again. And in case you were wondering- I did have caffeine today, why do you ask. (ha ha ha ha ha lol ha ha ha). - Love, Giddy Goddess**_

_-x-x-x-xx—x-x-xx-x-x—x-x-xx_

**THREE MONTHS LATER…**

Sam snuffled as blast of wind whipped his hair about wildly, thinking if John were here, he would tell him to get a haircut. Luckily, Dean hadn't picked up that habit, much to Sam's happiness. He could say that Dean had several habits and addictions of his own. In fact, Dean's biggest addiction- music- blasted loudly in the car, spilling out of the open windows. Dean had been trying to annoy him over the past 3 ½ days in various attempts at keeping slap happy boredom at bay. However, Sam wasn't really in a playful mood and he really didn't mind the tunes all that much.

As the beginning notes of Sweet Emotion blared from tape deck, Sam patted the drum beat softly against the steering wheel, unknowingly. Just as equally unaware, he pressed the gas a bit harder in response to the faster pace of the song from the previous one.

The spinning hubcaps shined brighter against the fresh whitewall. Sam could help but appreciate the smoother ride of the Impala. Usually, Dean was so content with new tires; he wouldn't let Sam drive for weeks. However, this time, his brother was not interested in Sam's newest quest- books.

"Come on Dean!! It's not going to kill you!" Sam huffed as he turned the volume down.

"It could…deadly paper cuts... book worms… Sam, it's a virtual horror fest!" Dean's voice resounded as if he was about to spout "It's Alive" from Frankenstein- a bit over the top and covered with gravy.

"Did I say anything when you wanted to go to Atlantic City…"

"That was different…it was fun."

"Well we are going. This used bookstore had a huge section on the occult and demons. With more of them on the loose, it just makes sense."

"Any excuse to get your geek on…. Come on!!!!!!!!!" He grumbled absurdly" It's NEW ORLEANS! You just want to get there and then leave. What is wrong with you?"

"We have things to do, you know that…"

"Yeah... yeah... yeah…" His voice trailed off- a bit over complacent. Meanwhile, Dean's hands twirled at a Chap Stick tube. He rolled the slick stick up to full, and then proceeded to toss it out the window.

"What are you DOING?" Curiosity with a twinge of apprehension caused Sam to finally ask.

At first, Dean didn't answer. Merely inserting the twisting button on the bottom between his teeth until the bottom came off. "Saw this vid on YouTube…how to make a Chap Stick pop gun. Looked so cool." Now that the bottom was free, Dean pulled the wand part out until it was barely inside the barrel of the tube.

"You're wasting Chap Stick to make something off of YouTube. How are we EVEN related?"

"Well, I know you never wanted to hear this….I always wanted Dad to tell you we found you at the carney… now you know the truth… you know that affection your feel towards the bearded lady…."

"Don't start"

"Aww come on…"

"Are you that bored!"

"GOD YES!" Dean muttered and mimicked Sam from a few days earlier, only in an over animated, child like fashion. "Oh Dean… let's drive for four days to New Orleans, so I can get a book! Then…."

"Oh, this is going to be a long drive."

Dean started to chuckle, placing the cap back onto this makeshift Chap Stick gun.

"That's not going to work."

Undaunted, Dean slammed the bottom into the shaft with his palm. The cap remained in place. The determined hunter pulled the slender piston back out and slammed it again with the same unfruitful result. After a few unsuccessful pops, Dean grumbled under his breath.

"Told you it wouldn't work." Sam teased in good humor.

Dean pulled the firing mechanism back further, slammed the button with all his might, and watched as the lid flew off. He let out a laugh that sounded a bit like a squeal. A few triumphant chuckles were quickly stolen, when the lid projectile landed in the middle of Sam's forehead, right between his eyebrows.

Sam startled a moment, then sighed and snickered in disbelief.

"Sorry Dude!" Dean tried to sound apologetic through the snickers. "Told you it would work."

"DUDE… That's just wrong…Okay... that's it! You're in CAR TIME OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Sam switched off the tunes, giving Dean a clear indication of his seriousness.

"Car time out???!!!??? Jeez, Sam... Like that will work with me... You have got to be kidd…"

"No. NO…I'm not listening to you. And you're not going to talk OR tap OR peck OR hum…OR anything for the next thirty miles."

"Hey Sam. Bite me! Screw your time out." Dean jested.

However, Sam had grown quiet. He could already see it: Dean was in one of those "I want to have fun moods", which meant a joke war was not that far off. He thought it best to end it right here before things went overboard yet again.

"Sam?"

The only response was air gushing in the window

"Aww, come on Sam? Are you pouting?...Sam?...uh… Sammy……YO!...I'm not a child… Sam?"

-x-x-x-xx-x-x-x-


	3. Welcome to the TOY BOX

"Sam, will you look at that!" Dean exclaimed as his brother guided the Impala into a parallel parking space in front of some specialty shops

Thankfully, Sam knew better than to divert his attention to whatever his brother wanted at the moment. The last time he had used that excited tone jello wrestling had been involved. Plus, a dent in the car would not go over well.

After lining up the car in the spot, Sam turned off the ignition and finally glanced at what peaked Dean's interest so much. He couldn't help but groan. "A toy store! Geez... I take it back. You don't act like your three, you are three."

"Whoa, look at that hand-carved toy car. That is da bomb"

"Da bomb???? Man, no more YouTube for you. Come on... I need to pick up those books."

"In a minute." Dean stared happily. "Man, I use to love toy cars. Dude, I haven't even had one since we lived in Kansas."

"Why did they put a toy store on the same block as my bookstore?" He asked scowling at Dean wide eyed expression.

"Fate, my friend. Totally fate. This was your tip… you only have yourself to blame. Would it kill you to go to the Toy Box? Do you even remember fun?" Practically drooling over the handmade toys in the window, Dean laughed. "Look at that craftsmanship… they don't make them like this anymore."

Sam stared at the brightly painted front, complete with a few images of happy clowns, boarding on the side of scary. The store painted homage of all things kiddie, carnival, and circus. Sam couldn't help but shutter. "That place looks is creepy looking for a person to happen. Can you have your second toddlerhood at Toys R Dean later?"

"Yeah… yeah...yeah… go get your copy of Men are on Mars, Sam can't get any action book or something."

Sam shrugged, stepped out of the car, and walked towards a bookstore four doors down from the parking spot and the TOY BOX. "Okay...Whatever..." His playfulness was cut short, when Dean had already exited and made a dashed into the toy store.

"Valley Girl!" Dean smarted.

With an amused sigh and an exaggerated eye roll, Sam abandoned his brother to the reprieve in a flight of fancy. No matter how ridiculous, it made him feel good to see Dean happy. "I'll never get him out of there." He sighed and head in faked dismay before he went on his own errand, leaving Dean in happy Toyland.

Pushing the door open, the room created a sense of cautiousness in Dean. Soon, that dread faded into a happy glee, when a happy tune played from the door. Dean smiled as if the store announced his grand entrance in its proper way, of course. He waited for an entourage to spill out and fulfill his whims. But, as far as he could see, he was alone.

Shortly, he heard murmurs of voices in the back room, which he presumed to be clerks busy in the stock room. Not that he could see for the heavy drape dividing the room from the view of customers. Biding his time, he waited and admired the only car in the handmade toy display.

"Do you like tdem?" A sweet voice asked, while the same tune announced another patron's entrance.

"Yeah. Amazing. This is a 1966 Chevy Chevelle SS 396." He rolled the car a few inches, opened the working doors, raised the hood to peer at the model engine, and glided his thumb over the sleekness of the paint. "Wheeew, this is incredible work. So, damn smooth. It's got the re-skin, the blackout grille, wheelbase in perfect portion, the hood vents, and the V-8 standard. That's just..." He whistled. "Too bad the car itself had crap handling and subpar stopping."

"So, I can presume the car outside is yours?"

"Yeah." Pride in his car made him glance up, seeing how exotically beautiful the woman was before him. It didn't hurt that she smiled warmly with the plumpest lips Dean had seen without the aid of collagen. She radiated happiness from the way he admired the toy. "Yours?" he asked a bit roguishly, now admiring her as much as he had the craftsmanship.

His interest in her attractiveness didn't go unnoticed. A pink hue shaded her bright mocha skin. "My father's."

"He does great work." Dean skillfully played the double entendre of the line with perfect Winchester smoothness.

"Hmmm..." She replied with her own crafty tone.

Dean was about to suggest coffee, but the voices from the back were now clear and distinct. "What about the rumors that this place is haunted? Seems so utterly ridiculous." A female scoffed.

"Eugenia, it's all superstition. A drama boy slipped on a toy and cracked open his skull." A man of girth parted the backroom curtain and waddled into the main store.

He was followed by a woman with a shrew like mouth, perched so tight her lips disappeared. She wagged her head in agreement with her blue tinted, oversized hair bun flopping along with her. She didn't look too pleased to find customers in her store. "May I help you?" She demanded more than questioned.

"Oh... sorry... I was just looking?" Dean felt the like he was caught sneaking a kiss by his grade school teacher.

"We aren't open yet! How did you get in?"

Her tone made the oldest Winchester wonder when the Spanish Inquisition would show up. "It was open." He defended.

"You have no right, Teinturier!" The beauty beside of Dean fired back.

"Oh. Not you again. I'm sorry your father couldn't make his debts, but you have got to let go." Louis smarmed from his over-large jowls. "This store is the sole property of Mrs. Eugenia Dingess."

Before the young lady could defend herself, Eugenia joined the fray. "I told you to leave! I'm sorry for your lost, but..."

"You tdink bricks and mortar make a shop. My father built this place on his sweat and blood. I only want his toys. The tdings he made witd his hands. You owe me dat!"

"I'm sorry the contents were seized to cover his debt. Louis Teinturier grinned.

"I shall thank you to leave." Eugenia barked.

"Hold on, there's no need to be..." Dean attempted to intercede on the young woman's behalf. Right or wrong, no one deserved to be ganged up on. He could at least even the odds.

The young woman whirled, ignored Dean's help, but turned and whirled a toy at the grinning man's head. "You will get yours. This place does not want you 'ere. Bad tdings will happen to ya, Mark my words…tdey be no peace!"

"Take your voodoo mumbo jumbo…"

"Actually, Voodoo derives from the world's oldest known religions which have been in Africa since the beginning of human civilization. Some think it's over 10,000 years old." Dean added, thinking Sam would be so proud of him for remembering.

"I don't care what it is. Leave now." Eugenia barked like a Chihuahua on too much caffeine.

"I'm going, but you can't hide from de spirits." The sting of defeat in the sweet voice.

The young lady left, but her would be champion still felt a bit of fight in him. "That was a bit extreme."

The banker was going to say something, but the new shop owner beat him to it "Did you come in for something?" Her voice more shrill.

"Yeah… how much for these?" Dean asked.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tapping his foot, Sam waited patiently for the book clerk to locate his requested books. While he idled, he scooped up more materials on lore, thinking he could hide two books in the stacks. He didn't know why he was worried, Dean hated research with a passion and would only grudging do it when necessary. Four books already stacked the counter when Sam asked, "Did you find the books on hold for me, yet?"There should be two: One on Crossroads and Demon hierarchy."

If he had not been so keen on the book selection, Sam would have give up on the Tome Tomb bookstore long ago, but Borders doesn't care a great selection of the books the Winchesters could use. Although, he was surprised from time to time when he noticed a mainstream occult book that got it close to right."

"Here they are!" A pimple faced teen popped up from below the counter, with the books raised in triumph. "Dude, like what do you want these for?"

"I'm studying religion and working on my thesis. Can, I get those in a bag, Stan?" Sam read the name on the clerk's ID badge.

"Dude, you had that air of monk about you."

At this point, frustration had taken over. "I"M NOT A MONK."

"Dude, like...whoa."

"Sorry, you'd be surprised how the occult turns chics on. The whole air of danger." Sam joked.

"Whoa... like totally."

Boy, this kid is out of his element, Sam thought. Was it laziness or lack of brain power? Sam begun to have serious concerns about the youth of today, if this was an example. Yet, he didn't feel like debating the issue with Stan. "What what do I owe you?"

"$56.66" The boy gasped. "Whoa, that is like creepy. Demons books and 666."

Sam turned his head, trying not to roll his eyes or make any gesture that gave away how ridiculous he felt at moment. He held out a credit card, which the clerk snatched and zipped thorough. Sam was just signing, when he noticed Dean sprinting after a woman. Silent he noted, that's Dean for you.

He scribbled so fast, his signature looked like a bunch of scratches. IF he had any hopes of getting of New Orleans tonight, he had to reign in his brother. Vaguely, he heard the clerk say something that might have been have a nice day when the bag of books were jutted inside of Sam's arms. Feet already moving for the door, Sam hightailed it down the path he witnessed Dean a few second ago. All the while he called out. Dean! Hey, wait up!"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Miss, wait." Dean said more politely than he ever had in his life. Something told him he needed to soft hand this conversation. "Hey, hold up."

"Please, leave me alone." Her voice wasn't demanding, but merely sad.

"I understand... I do...just...uh... I have something for you."

She stopped, half expecting a weak pick-up line or more harmless flirting. But she figured that since she initiated the contact with the young man, she could at least apologize and send him on his way. "I said..."

Dean's hand fiddled inside the plain paper bag and then promptly put an item on display.

"...I just need to be al..." Eyes as wide saucers looked at the outstretched hand and the same toy car he was admiring earlier.

"I thought you should have it. I know it was my favorite, so…"

"Why do you want to give it to me? What's your angle?"

"No angle. Just if someone had something of my Dad's I'd do anything to get it back."

Cautiously, she took the car from him and spoke reluctantly."Thanks."

Flashing his best Winchester smile, Dean introduced himself. "Dean Winchester. Sorry about the way you were treated."

"It's not your fault. Look, I appreciate it, but this is not a good time."

"You owe me a name at least. Come on." He exaggerated in cuteness.

"Nadiya"

"Beautiful." He was about to escalate his flirting when Sam hollered from somewhere down the block.

"DEAN?"

He pivoted to respond. "Over here." He whirled and spoke at the same time. "Sorry, that's my brot..." But, when he had completed the full turn, Nadiya was already gone.

"Who are you following?" Sam questioned when he arrived at his brother's side.

"Where did she go?"

"What?"

"This girl... she was in the store. Her Dad's toys..."

"Yeah. I saw you STALKING her."

"I wasn't trying to stalk her. I wanted to get some information."

"Like her number!"

"No…well, yeah, but that toy store. The new owner mentioned a haunting and Nadiya..."

"Nadiya?" Sam smiled suggestively.

"Listen will ya?" Dean replied letting Sam know he was serious and not just chasing a cute skirt. "A haunted toy store. Come on Demonic toys... Chucky...that sounds killer."

"Or it could just be old and creepy and nothing more."

"Then why did they last owner have an accident?"

"You just have to withhold information to make this difficult and dramatic. What happened?"

"Don't know. Just overhead that a toy took him out."

"I'm starting to think hunting gigs to follow us. And it's always something new to bite us in the ass."

"Hey, you could use a little run in with bite me Barbie." Dean grinned with a smile that wouldn't stop.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Once Sam entered the Toy Store, he had to admit it was downright spine chilling. Dean on the other hand appeared excited by the prospect of haunted toys.

"And now you're back!" Eugenia barked.

"Yeah. This is my brother, Sammy. I showed him that toy and he just had to see those handmade wonders himself."

"Well, that's the last of them."

"So you aren't going to have more made?" Dean played dumb. He already surmised that Nadiya's father wasn't going to be helping out and making new toys for Eugenia Dingess. His good deed, while he meant it, told him there was a parting of some sorts.

"The old toymaker died right after he lost the shop. If you believe rumors he died trying to perform some ancient voodoo curse. Pretty much just locals trying to scare anyone. They don't like that outsiders have opened new businesses."

"So the guy in here earlier. What's his interest? Had to admit that heated interactions won't be good for your business."

"Louis helped me get this place. I plan to liquidate the toys and turn it into a bridal shop"

"So I see." Sam said trying to hide his disappointment. He knew people were coming in and wiping out these small businesses after Katrina. He couldn't blame the community for being bitter.

"So what was all that hoopla about previous owners… workers…..or something getting hurt?"

"A couple bought and apparently a man was attacked by a little toy car. Or so says his life partner. RUMORS and lies. IF you ask me, the life partner did it for insurance money. You know how those kinds are." She said in a way that showed she had no humor to debate her opinion. "And you know how rumors are. Once it starts, the gaggle will exaggerate every detail. They just bought in the voodoo bullshit and he wasn't watching what he was doing."

"So he died from slipping on a toy."

"Oh No! He just broke his leg and got a concussion. See what I told you about rumors."

"Ah... thanks…we're just going to look around." Dean pulled Sam over to the window of handmade toys and waited until the new owner was not looking.

Under the pretense of discussing the toys, Sam began to run over the facts of the case. "Not exactly screaming haunted TOY STORE just yet." Sam whispered.

"I'm telling you. Nadiya was serious when she said a power was going to make bad things happen. And you dragged me to New Orleans, the most haunted city ever. At least you could do is humor me by checking this out."

"Find something you like." Eugenia prompted.

"Too many ma'am." Sam said, turning and flashing a sweet smile. As he turned he noticed a wall of handmade dolls, obviously the same style as the toys in the window. A single doll seem to focus in on Sam. While it was very beautiful, something still disturbed Sam and he shivered.

"What?" Dean looked back at the source his brother's unease. "What! Huh...don't tell me the dolls…"

"I just hate the way they stare at you… and since the last time we were around dolls."

"Doesn't really make you feel at ease does it. Well anyway, we can have a chat with the life partners and see how supernatural this place is." When he realized the store owner was staring at them, Dean continued to play up the ruse as interested customers. Picking up a toy from one of the many barrels, he pulled a stuffed, animated hamster dressed in a karate outfit. "What the hell is this."

"Everybody was Kung-fu fighting!" The small stuffed rodent sang swinging its nunchakus. "Those Cats were fast like lightening….

"Auuuhhhhggg. Now that is scary. Sam, get the lighter fluid. This thing needs to be put to rest."

"Come on. We'll come back tonight, check things out. Meanwhile, we'll check out the former owners of this place down at city hall." Sam prompted Dean before he turned and acknowledged Eugenia, who was still watching them from behind the counter. "Thanks for your help ma'am. We'll be back on payday."

Sam pushed Dean forward and out the door. As the Winchester's moved in view of the window, the doll which caused Sam's shiver, blinked and turned her head to follow his steps.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO


	4. Fun with Candy Corn

"I don't care what you say. That place is haunted, possessed, or... or SOMETHING! Do you really think someone could have set this up to get the store from us?" Harold huffed.

"We really can't say at the moment, but it's under investigation." Sam smiled, but shifted.

"But the FBI, that is so fascinating. All that action."

"It's not a glamorous as you think," Dean said cautiously, sure that this man was giving him the eye.

"Jooosshhh." Harold whined a bit, milking his injury for all it was worth.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake! What do you need now?" Josh moaned and gave Sam a wink.

"Can I have more juice?" Harold said sickly sweet.

"Fine, whatever!" Josh threw up three fingers like a W, the tilted them to form an E.

A small chuckle of amusement sprouted from Dean, but stopped when Sam gave him an eye roll. "Ahem… So Mr. Harlow…"

"Please call me, Harold."

"Okay…uh... Harold. Can you run over what you told the insurance company?"

"Well, at first, I thought Josh was messing around and teasing me like he had a remote in the back room. But, then I took the batteries out and the damn thing kept going. I would put it on the counter and then it would be someplace else. That little car moved right under my feet and caused me to ram head first into the glass. Broke my poor leg and gave me this gash."

"So you decided to sell the store?" Sam questioned.

"That places is spooked and I am never going back there!" Harold uttered

"Here's your juice." Josh rolled his eyes and nodded disapprovingly as if he too was shaken by something supernatural.

"And what did you see?' Dean bore his gaze on Josh, who just handed Harold the juice.

"Harold bleeding and broken. And I saw that car. It whirled for a moment, then stopped cold like it was staring at me. I know you might think we are overreacting, but that place is spooked."

"Do you know anything about the history?'



"We were told the last owner couldn't make payments and he lost it. Cham… Charmer …. something or other. We were told he died of a heart attack cause of the financial stress…" Josh began.

"…but, we heard later he died doing a voodoo spell. If you ask me there is Satanic forces at work there."

Sam and Dean shared a glance before Sam began to speak. "Well, is something humanly driven is going on, we will get to the bottom of it. Thanks for your time."

"No problem. With cheekbones like that, you can drop by anytime." Josh smiled at Sam.

"Uh... thanks… I think"

"Oh No…" Harold disagreed. "This one's got the pretty green eyes."

"Okay…thanks for everything, but we have to girl... I mean go." Dean said quickly and uncomfortably.

x-xx-x-x-x-x-xx-x—x-x-x-x-x-x-

The Bayou Palace motel- Room 15...

Fingers flew over the laptop keyboard, researching a more personal topic than a toy store. Sam didn't waste any time getting started. It was so infrequent that he had any alone time and he used all if to research crossroad deals and demon. So, when Dean offered to get dinner, Sam agreed readily. 

Plus, it seemed like Dean needed some time alone. His slap happy attitude this week had to be compensating for fear over this deal. At least it was better than super-hunter Dean, which was the norm these days. One day Sam would call him on it. He had just about had enough of the ample latitude he had given to Dean's attitude lately. 

Just when he got comfortable in reading and felt secure that he wouldn't get caught, Dean burst in the motel door. His arms were covered by white plastic handles of four bags of takeout, which smelled distinctly of Creole cooking. A paper bag balanced against his chest and other forearm.

"Soups ON!" Dean yelled, announcing his arrival with a hearty gusto.

"Did you get enough?" Sam asked causally as he shut the lid of his computer screen.

Dean ignored the question, tossed the bags on Sam's bed, and started pulling out the contents. At least six Styrofoam containers of food emerged from the bags, beer, and a container of candy corn.

"CANDY CORN?"

"It was free!'



"That's because it is 2 months old! You don't even like it."

"It was free."

"Great logic, Dean. So, I did manage to look up your pet project. There seems to have been a few accidents." As Sam read on about a few accidents, Dean opened the candy corn and lined up tow kernels as vampire teeth.

"Are you listening?"

Dean kept his lips over his candy teeth and nodded.

"So, guess when…"

Dean lined up more candy corn under his lower and upper lip in a weird jagged smile. He caught a glance of himself in vanity mirror and he began to snicker.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, while Dean merely shrugged. "Okay, you are acting Weird. What in the hell are you up to and don't tell me you are eating that colored wax they label as candy."

About that time Dean smiled, showing off his toothy candy corn grin. Spitting out the small triangle candy, Dean chuckled. "You have no sense of fun."

Sam ignored his brother and continued. "So guess, who owned the original toy store?"

"Stay-puff Marshmallow Man." Dean offered with a grin.

"Jalil Chamani's"

"So? That doesn't mean much?"

"Yeah, but according to the new clip, Jalil died on the back door of the toy store. He had a heart attack while doing a Voodoo ceremony. And his only heir… His daughter NADIYA"

"So Jalil is freaking out the place? A trip to the graveyard should end that."

"Or Nadiya is using Voodoo to scare the new owners to get the place back." Sam offered.

"Come on Sam, I don't think…"

"That the smartest thing you've said all day. You don't think." Sam couldn't resist teasing Dean. "We'll check it out and break in tonight. If it's a hoax, then we head out tomorrow morning to a real hunt?"



"Fine, but don't blame me when the Teddy Bears come to get you!" Dean smarted, doing the creepy wave with his fingers. "Ooohhhhhhh… their coming to get you Sammy!"

"Dude, you…. I'm going to smack the crap out of your INNER CHILD!" Sam glared.


	5. TINKIE WINKIE

-x-x-x-x-x-xx-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**Later that night at the TOY BOX…**

Sam's EMF crackled and hissed a reading. He followed the pops of the device, using the meter to pinpoint the source. He approached the doll display where he stood earlier in the day. When he was close enough to touch the toy, the meter went dead silent. "Crap!"

"What's up?" Dean yelled from the back room.

"I got a reading and then whoosh- GONE! I think we are getting interference from something in here. Could be from old wiring in this place….Find anything back there?"

"Not yet! "

"I'm coming back… nothing out here anyway."

As Sam turned a doll blinked and stared at him. The icy sensation of being watched grabbed his spine, yanking him to look back at the doll wall. But, he could find no danger when he stared at them. Only the creepy sensation the vacant eyes always gave him. Sam stared at the dolls again, who all seem to be still staring back at him. He lingered for a moment, and then walked away.

A hundred little heads turned in unison and all the doll's eyes followed Sam's movements. One by one the shelves of toys sparked with life, all watching Sam. A shelf of Cupie dolls snapped to attention next, followed by the toy soldiers. Each display in turn turned in perfect time, like a wave at a baseball game. Finally, Sam passed the rack, teaming full of plush Teletubbies.

Before Sam could enter the back, Dean popped out the front. "Sorry Sam. Just had a gut feeling. Could just be family or friends playing pranks. We can…" Dean' voice stopped. "Sam? "

Sam turned seeing the toys all turned, baring gazes on the Winchesters. "Okay, that's not normal."

"Define normal for us."

"Tinkie Winkie!"

"Dipsy!"

"Laa-Laa!"

"Po!"

" Teletubbies! Teletubbies! Say hello!" All the creatures said in unison. A rank in file of toy Teletubbies moved on their own, approaching Sam and Dean in a strange unearthly gait.

"What the hell are those!?" Dean asked.

"Disgusting!" Sam answered among a sea of sounds of uh-oh, hewwow, and eh-oh"

A mass of marching teletubbies said their names and phrase about fifty times. A mash of multiple voices of toys screamed "BIG HUG!" With that a purple one grabbed Dean's leg like an over anxious dog which humps your leg.

"GET OFF!" He yelled kicking the thing back, but it advanced and grabbed his calf again.

"Time for tubby custard! Time for tubby custard!"

Suddenly the toys were upon them both, knocking Sam over. While there was no pain, the tiny toys were handing the Winchesters their kiesters. Sam pushed himself out of the plushies and grabbed a baseball bat, flying a bunch of the possessed things in several directions.

"Big Hug!" The purple one humping Dean's leg said. "Tinkie Winkie."

Moving in a way Dean found obscene, he tried to pry the critter off. "Dude, get this off of me... it's got a purse…. Get it off!'

"I think it is already doing that on your leg." Sam smarted.

"Wook at meee!! Wook at meee!!" said a yellow one, jumping and latching onto Sam's hair.

"Sam! I have a new fear! Torch these bastards!" Dean screamed as he kicked at the one having his way or was it her way with his leg without success of removal.

Sam jerked back his bat to swing at Dean's tormentor, but a rainbow sea of sugar looking toys, pulled him down to the floor. Then Sam groaned and his skull cracked hard against the floor.

A mass of the animated playthings were now pulling at Dean. But, he punched harder, realizing Sam wasn't getting up and he didn't hear any sounds other than the dripping honey voices of their attackers.

Dean kicked out, sending his humper off his leg. Then he flapped fists in random directions, not really caring what he hit. He pushed forward with tons of the toys pulling at him. Eventually, he spotted Sam, who appeared to be old cold. "GET OFF HIM!"

He grabbed Sam's ball bat and sent the primary color whirls from him with several smacks. Before all of them could recover, Dean scooped up his brother and tossed him over a shoulder. Swinging the bat wildly, Dean made it to the front door. With a final swing to get the door clear, he stamped outside, slamming his back against the glass of the portal to keep the flood of plush from them.

Now that he was outside, he lowered Sam and guided him to the ground, still keeping his back pressed against the door. He slid down to Sam's level carefully. "Sammy? You with me?"

Sam moaned and started to come too. "What…what?"

"You hit your head. You okay? How many fingers?" Dean said, holding up three right in front of Sam's eyes.

"Two?"

"Close enough."

"Where did they go?"

"Still inside…" It was then Dean noticed the voices had quieted. When he risked a peek inside all the toys were perfectly in place as if none of it had happened. "Okay….uh…that's not normal either. It's quiet again? What the …"

"We have to check into our toymaker."

"We'll I'm more concerned about attack of the Sugar stuffed toys. They can be dangerous."

"Did you feel like they were trying to hurt us? Sam sat up woozily.

"Now that you mention it, it was kinda an overpowering force and not so much bloodshed. It was like they wanted us out of the way, not…."

"Something's strange."

"Yeah, a toy doing unnatural acts on your leg doesn't seem deadly." Sam reminded Dean.

"But, you got hurt and someone else could fare worse."

"TWINKIE WINKIE!" Dean heard from inside the store.

"Come on, let's call it a night." He had no intention of a rematch of toy love connection tonight. "Something is pulling these things strings and it needs to be stopped." Dean said as he helped Sam to his feet.


	6. Skittle

**Yep, this story is back in action. It may be in smaller pieces, but I wanted not to leave it hanging forever. Don't worry the next part will be up as soon in a couple days. **

"Any Luck?" Stepping out of the bathroom, Dean shivered. Water beads soaked through his jeans, making it obvious Dean didn't take time to full dry off from the intense steam shower. His skin flamed a bright red, a temporary marker of a too hot temperature.

Were you trying to burn off your skin?"f

The bright scarlet redden skin quickly hid as Dean pulled a dingy grey sweatshirt over his water-scalded skin. "Dude, I had to get that creepy rainbow thing feeling off of me. Felt like a skittle molested me.

"Can I just call you Tinkie?"

"Do you want to live to kick stuffing out of the toys or die now?"

"Depends! If I have to see some puppet love again. On second thought, I'm not one to judge. Next time you'll have to introduce me to your girlfriend.""

Cracking open a beer, Dean slumped onto the couch that dominated a corner of the motel room. He let out a long annoyed sigh, bolting back a guzzle swig of beer.

"You just had to say it." Tossing the metallic cap, Dean bounced it off Sam's ear.

"Watch It! Kinda gives new meaning on taste the rainbow!"

"Argghgh...ewww! Just remember, you were out cold. I could have left you all alone with …" He wiggled his eyebrows. "We've faced demons, vampires- enough evil shit to make Linda Blair's head spin the other way. But TOYS- freakin' toys kick our asses. Those rainbow bitches have to die. You tell me what's going on in that place. That's not like anything we have ever seen."

"It could have gone better, but it was like something was holding them back."

"Tell that to the lump on your skull."

"Looked up half a dozen cases, myth lore, even Dafd's journal. No haunting has been like this."

"Short of renting the puppet master- total classic!" Dean beamed. "We got jack-in-the-box squat."

"Cute."

"Ain't I!"

"I think Demon toys would be a better choice at the moment."

"Demonic toys," Dean corrected. "Oooohhh, the teddy bear in that one! Creefpy Bastard."

"Are you going to focus here?

No matter what, a spook wouldn't be able to control things on that large of a scale. Multiple pissed off kids that were always on the naughty list?"

"No record of mass deaths on that location. It all stirred up when Jalil Chamani passed on."

"I know the family is wild about that toy stor-"

"Manipulating one or two things would have been a possibility for a vengeful spirit."

"Even I know that much." He sucked back the last of his beer. "I don't think we are dealing with a spirit. Come on, Sammy, we're missing somethin'."

"Already thought of that. I went back to the photos taken after Chamani's death. Researched anything I could find about him. Lived here all his life, built his store on his own, family man. His obit reads like the entire community rallied after his death. Wife died 10 years ago. One child. Nothing too criminal besides an unpaid parking ticket, which he might have paid if he lived. Seems like an ordinary, nice guy."

"It's the quiet ones you have to worry about. Come on, when have you ever heard of someone going off with an Uzi and the neighbors call him a nutball? Some wahoo is always saying how nice he seemed."

"I think in this case, something went really wrong when he died."

"What was your first clue?"

"When I met your future wife. Course she was doing your leg so I didn't get a good look at her. Good thing or I'd be blind.

Dean squinted his eyes in a gunslinger pose. "Keep it up, fuzz ball."

"Anyway, Mr. Nice guy was smack in the middle of a voodoo ceremony when his number got punched."

"Think he was trying to do the banker in? That guy could use a little dirt nap if you ask me."

"Doubt it. The sigils and offerings are wrong for anything that nefarious. More like he requested protection. From the looks of it, he was a devout believer in the voodoo religion. Take a look. The cops took these pics and I found-"

"You found them?"

"Let's say I pulled a string or two at the police station."

"Yeah when?"

"When you were in the shower, crying you would never be clean."

"Ha ha funny." He gave a head jiggle, raising his eyebrows quickly and then furrowed them in thought. "I did feel so dirty!"

Dean grabbed the photos. "Hey does it look like the banker pissed his pants."

Sam snickered. "When we got attacked, I was down for the count, but the only scratch on me is my head. Why didn't they swarm and take the advantage?"

"Come to think of it, they more or less just piled on ya. Seemed like they found the best way to take you down and the rest was kinda funny. "

"It all fits then. If you look at the step, you can make out several offerings I think he called Papa Legba. The connection must still be good."

"The toys do tend to attack anyone trying to alter the store. So now Papa Leggo or something is pulling Cellar Dweller on everyone."

"Papa Legba…" Sam mouthed as he rolled his eyes. "If I'm right, we can resolve this easily. Legba's origins are of the Fon people of Africa. Known as a trickster and guardian of crossroads and entrances."

"Crossroads…..ughhh… and trickster… not another trick…"

"Yeah… tell me about it! Papa Legba is the master linguist, the trickster, warrior, and the personal messenger of destiny. Has the power to remove obstacles and provided opportunities. His colors are red and black and some of his favorite things are often used as offerings include, candy, cigars, rum, and tobacco."

"Sounds like a good week in Vegas. Papa LEGGO doesn't sound so bad!"

"Remember his toy minion was humping your leg."

"That... That I didn't like so much."

"I'd say the spell he did to protect his shop is in full force and while a bit annoying and scary…"

"No one is getting seriously hurt."

"We can break this with a run of the mill reversal spell."

"You sure about this?"

"Pretty sure."

"Dude, if you are wrong, you're kiester belongs to Miss Piggy and the phrase squeal like a pig will never have the same meaning."


	7. Jack

Even under the cover of night, the city of New Orleans hummed as alive and awake as if the daylight still shined down. The months since Katrina had taken a toll on the city, but not the spirit of the people. For once, Dean was grateful to hear the sounds of laughter. He had hoped his side trip in Toyland might perk up the morose Sam. Instead, he actually found a complicated case that did indeed the Winchester's special touch. At least that felt a bit like old times with the two of them picking each other apart all in the name of putting a creature to rest while having a blast doing it. He coughed uncomfortably, wondering if there was any way to get back to used to be and knowing the answer would always be no.

"Should be easy enough. Just seal the doorway for Legba and we can be outta here in about an hour."

"You in a hurry?" He held the flashlight steady, watching for foot traffic on the main street. Surprising enough, for all the frivolity on the quarter, it was quiet. "You got some place to be?"

"Deadlines." Sam offered nothing else that might hint to any emotion he may be feeling.

Creeping into the darkness of the ally, Sam and Dean slid against rough brick with the slightest scraping sound, clinging as close as possible to hide in the shadows to cover their late night break-in. They skidded to a stop at the back entrance of the store.

"Man, this is creepy- beyond us creepy."

"This was your idea and where all trouble started." Sam began picking the locks as the duffel on his shoulder slid down, stopping at mid-elbow.

"I still feel bad about it. We send the voodoo away and this guy's daughter gets nothing."

"That's cause you like her." The door cracked open as the tumblers clicked in proper place. Sam stepped through, grabbing Dean's jacket as he moved, propelling his brother to come along.

"What's not to like?"

"Sometimes I swear you got morals from bad pirate movies."

"Sam, that hurts. You weren't there. I swear there was a connection." Dean raised his gun, targeting anything that might move.

"Uh-huh. Yeah, cause that is so like you."

"I can be- have some-" Dean gulped. "Some sense of chivalry."

"Chivalry? Did you watch Monty Python recently? Just think- yesterday the word you used for that had four letters in it."

"Can we hurry this up? This place is weirdin' me out."

"Your case, remember?"

"I'm just sayin'."

Without further response to Dean's inquiries, Sam knelt down in the middle of the storeroom, digging items out of his duffle. After lighting a long black tapered candle, he tilted it, cascading some of the wax into the bottom of a simple earth cast brown bowl. When a sufficient puddle amassed in the center, he fixed the candle upright in the wax pool.

"Pour the holy water," He instructed, "Almost to the wick, but don't put it out."

As he gave Sam a snotty glance, he dug deep into his pocket, retrieving his flask to do what Sam asked. "This feels kinda dumb." Dean twisted at the cap.

"And make sure that flask is the holy water and not the whisk-"

"Dude, I'm not stupid!" Taking a sip when Sam turned away, occupied in setting the spell work up in the proper sequence, Dean bolted a swift drink, blinking harshly at the shocking wakening of the aged whiskey in his throat. He shifted the flask back inside his jacket pocket and retrieved another flask on the opposite side pocket. "I swear you give me no credit!" He tipped the water in carefully as Sam had instructed. "Now what?"

"One word- Mentos! Nice breath."

"Acid reflux."

"More like J&B rare. Just Meditate."

"Meditate- like OMMMMMM."

"Mediate… that means shut up."

"I'm not stupid.

"You said that already. Be quiet anyway." Sam closed his eyes, muttering something under his breath until the wick burned down to the water line and fizzled out.

"Dude, your pilot light went out."

"It's supposed to. Now we have to pour the cleansed water at all the doorways."

"Later on, we can do light as a feather and stiff as a board."

Sam ignored Dean's lighthearted comments, finishing the spell to end the Voodoo magic that Chamani had called for protection. "This should seal the doorways that let Legba in."

"It's still ass that Nadiya gets the shaft."

"One- I'm not touching the hidden meaning in that sentence and...."

"Psshh... Wish we could find a way to give that banker a kick in the pants."

"Not really in our realm of expertise." Sam drizzled the water over every window and door in the back storage, through the archway to the store and worked his way to the storefront. Meanwhile, Dean took point, his gun drawn for any possibility. When the last drop splattered over the main door, Sam waited, listening and watching for a reaction. As the quiet roared around in his ear like a vast ocean, he inspected their surroundings. "That should do it."

"Think it worked?"

"Seems calm in here."

"Hmmm…Well that was easy…"

"Yeah, seems kinda…."

"Wrong for us." Dean finished. "Man, I hate the word seems! I mean we're always in-"

"Deep crap."

"So, where's the crap? Having beer with his buddies or something!"

"Damn, Wait... The seal! Uh… I fix this plea in the names of the four fires- Ril, Yut, Sar, and Lod."

"Were they in the village people?" Dean smarted and then noticed the gentle plunk of music somewhere.

"Funny. Laugh riot. Remind me I still need to beat the ever loving hell out of you."

"Zip it… You hear that?"

Distantly they stared at their surroundings in utter bewilderment. "Ah, crap." Mirroring each other in perfect unison, Sam and Dean glanced at each other.

A gentle, broken, and discordant tinkling of metallic notes spattered in the quiet. Twink, twank, twink, twink, twank, pong, ping."

"Where's it at? Do you see it?"

"Sounds like a jack-in-the-box." Sam looked in the direction of the noise. He sighed, cursing under his breath. "You had to talk about that toy last night!"

"And you said this would work. I don't think you fixed it, Sammy boy."

"Great! We're both wrong."

"Sounds sick. I have a bad feeling about this." Dean tightened his grip on his handgun, flexing a finger. When his hand started to tremor, Dean shocked that he could be unnerved. He did feel a bit weirded, but not to this point. Soon the vibration rumbled under his feet in a distant hum. When he realized Sam felt the tremor too, he really began to worry. "We should leave and rethink this."

"Oh yeah!"

The ground suddenly shook fiercer while the music grew louder. The defunct and metallic sound of "Pop goes the Weasel" played. Slowly grinding through the song repeatedly- off key and off beat from the sheer age, the toy sputtered in disjointed melody.

Out of nowhere, the closed musical box appeared at Sam's feet. The melody drew closer with each note, until finally the music ceased altogether. Both stared at the box waiting for it to erupt in a grenade fury of toy madness. However, the tremors and box grew quiet.

Not moving, Sam and Dean bore down on the tiny box, ripe with anticipation. When nothing happened, with a great kick, Sam punted it to the far wall.

"Alright, we're officially paranoid." Titling his head in a doglike wonder, Dean's tongue protruded in the side of his mouth until it warped out a few inches. "Is that it?"

"I'm not sure." Sam stalled, inspecting his surroundings one last time before he answered, but when the quiet returned, thinking he was sufficiently sure, he passed off the notion of trouble. "One final sputter of energy. Must have fizzled itself out?"

"Yeah, that was pretty weak." As he put his gun away into his snug waistband of his jeans, Dean kicked at the box too, rolling it over with his foot. "Kinda lame." Bending down, Dean tapped the top opening and then turned the dial, playing the creepy tunes several times, before he pried at the sealed lid unsuccessfully. "What a jip, the clown doesn't pop. It's broken."

"Can you stop messing around with it?"

"Oh, Yeah. Forgot." If he had a flashlight, Dean would have lit up his face. As it was, he pitched his voice into a shriek waving his arms around like a constipated monkey. "CLOWNS! CLOOOOOOWWWNNNSS!"

Sam merely glared with a look saved for those who had lost sanity. "Real mature."

"Hear that Jack, Sam wants you to come out and play." Just as he began to chuckle, the lid sprang open, whipping a ramshackle toy clown out faster than spider quick. The white-faced creature lobbed at Dean, opening its small mouth and latching viciously onto a finger.

"SON OF A..." Whipping out his 45, Dean opened fire, aim not being foremost in his mind, yet he blasted a bullet square into the center of the box. The strike, at least, ripped the creature from his flesh enough for him to volley a second one for good measure, blowing the toy clown into fragments of its former self.

"GO NOW!" Dean warned Sam. Although the warning came too late, as all of Muppet hell broke loose.


	8. Slip

Slithering and hissing, wooden carved snakes slinked, lashing out at the Winchesters from every angle. From the largest to the smallest, the withering mass crept towards them, strangling any means of escape.

Dean rolled, stood, and jumped. His hand reached for Sam, grabbing at his brother's sweatshirt hood, and securing them both on top of the sales counter. Tiny razor sharp wooden spikes skimmed across Sam's calf as he went, blanching a groove.

"SON OF A..."

"That's what I just said." Inspecting to make sure Sam didn't get a deep gouge, Dean jerked at Sam's pant leg and then shook his head. "Just missed. Why do I have to keep reminding myself those things aren't real?"

The hinges, connecting the segments of the play reptile's bodies, clattered, pounding like a phalanx of raining drums against each other and the floor. Occasionally, one would coil, attempt to spring, fail to get a grip on the Winchesters, and clank back harshly in the throbbing, shifting mass.

"How are we going to get pass them and get out now?"

"This way!" Dean plunged a wide step, planting a firm boot heal on the structure of a glass display case, balancing on the edges and testing to see if it would support weight. After the first careful seconds, he shoved his entire body over and transversed safely without involvement of the whirlpool below them.

"Sometimes you do have a good idea." Sam, waiting for Dean to move to the next makeshift stepping path, mimicked his brother's movement.

As they carefully moved, the rest of the stock begun to awaken, only to find Dean's gun blast if they got too close. Luckily, Sam salvoed at anything Dean left behind, including things that had just started to twitch to life.

Thump! Thumpitty-thump-thump-thump! Thump!

"Frosty?" Dean stopped, hearing the sound whip over his head.

"You got to be kidding. What the hell was that?"

Another projectile pitched at the wall behind them, smacking with force.

"This would be more amusing if toy cobras weren't trying to ventilate us." Sam tested his balance on his display, peering into the distant darkness.

"How much real damage can they do? Only a few more feet to go. Anyway, I got bit by the Clown lure, you only got skimmed."

Thump! Thump! Clatter!

A whirl of color zipped beside Dean's ear, grasping the tip of his earlobe. "DAMMIT!"

One. Then another. Orb after orb dashed at them. Both Winchesters turned to spy an oversized gumball machine's slot open, flinging gumballs and quarters at trajectories and speeds that defied any physic lesson Sam had ever studied. Multicolor hardness pelted them, seeking to send the brothers to kingdom come.

"Ack!"

Thump!

Dean shifted, taking a step to cover his face and flee the mad blinding multi-flavored fury. In the next barrage, he heard a distant crackle, resembling the sound of ice succumbing to the pressure of boiling water. In the moment he took a step, wobbling as he tried to shift his balance, the glass splintered beneath his feet, fissuring and disintegrating into tiny rivulets of glass.

The shards began to cascade like tiny mirrors under him, unable to hold his weight. The sound of danger rocked his limbs to react, but there wasn't time to leap to safety. He plunged, challenging the inevitable fall with a last ditch effort to dive before his lower half was torn to shreds. Dean shocked at how far he moved, yet the distance made little difference in his crash to the floor. Along with Dean, slivers of glass razors followed. Without a thought or glance as his surroundings, Dean rolled, thinking it was better to be out of the frying pan and to deal with the next fire.

"DEAN!"

Managing to steer free of the main glass debris, only a few glass chips littered on his pants. "Good thing I have reflexes of a cat!"

"Are you okay?" If Dean answered, Sam never heard. In the next second, a large yard dart propelled itself, driving into the flesh of his shoulder. A second one barraged, propelling with more ferocity than the first. Ripping a wiggling stuffed bunny from an overhead hammock, that was ready to parachute on his head, Sam shielded with the plushy, letting it drive the next forceful dart, letting the bunny take the brunt of the attack.

Witnessing the blood drip down, splattering in front of Dean's position on the floor. Dean panicked, knowing Sam had to be hurt. One after another, toys marched towards him. Then it was as if not a single toy remained out of the battle. He might have helped, but when he fought to regain his footing, the snakes wrapped around his legs, pulling him back down. They twisted around his hands, binding him securely and freeing him of his weapon.

Before he became aware of his predicament, sharp spikes drove into his calf muscle. Briefly, he thought tiny toy fangs might have skewered into his flesh, however, when the next set of sharp points gnawed at him, a bedazzler stapled through his jeans and into his flesh. Without the slightest blink of a second, tiny sparkling studs drove into the calf of his legs, ripping through fabric to inflict pain upon him. "Son of a bitch." A sharp burst like automatic fire stapled up the side of Dean's pant legs.

"Ahhh!" bit back a curse, taking in a seething breath of air. Just then, his mouth felt invaded as flash of yellow wrapped around his head. A thick plastic covered his face, suctioned over his gapping mouth, and stretched so tight his features popped as if frozen.

Fingers reached out in desperation, wrenching at the slickness taking his air away. With the effort, he managed to get a few quick breaths in each time, but found the slip and slide plastic attack retaliated by wrapping tighter.

As if the battle with the toys wasn't enough, the sprinklers spewed what felt like a geyser, erupting with an aberrant pressure. His fingers and plastic coated smooth and glassy as they became sodden. While he still had consciousness, he tried to fight dizziness and the toys pawing at him. Increasingly, he became less aware of what was attacking him.


	9. Slide

Yanking the dart from his flesh, Sam tossed it callously with his other arm, pinning some wiggling thing with it. His hand found his gun and he begun to fire. Jumping from his perch, he squeezed the trigger until the chamber clicked with a hollow sound. A dull impact reverberated with a sonic boom echo landing. His hurt arm dangled at his side, pain sparking up to his arm socket when his legs hit the floor.

"DEAN!"

Sucking in a plastic bubble in his mouth, Dean gasped in response with a strange squeaking sound. His throat gurgled like a vacuum.

Grabbing a baseball bat, Sam swung, flinging the things at his feet away from him, cutting a path towards Dean. Before he had time to worry about what might attack, he crashed to his knees with an instant ache shooting up them. Just in the tuck of his boot, his pocketknife seemed to find his hand as if it magically drawn to it like a magnet. He carefully, slit the plastic that enveloped Dean and felt queasy when he heard the desperate intake, sounding close to air filtered through mud. Deep with fraught, Sam carved the plastic to shreds until Dean could move on his own. He managed to rip away the snakes binding his brother's legs, but the next attackers were already jumping on Sam's back.

Taking no chance of being a plaything's chew toy, Sam grabbed the nape of Dean's shirt collar, dragging his brother behind him, at least until Dean had a chance to somewhat recover. Replicating his previous tactic, Sam, rocking the bat back and forth, cleared a wide path. "We can't kill them! There's too many."

As soon as the words tumbled out, Sam saw more whips of bright yellow plastic of Slip 'N Slides spiral around them. One snaked around Sam's weapon and another flattened at his feet. With the sopping sprinklers above, the combination formed a traction free mess. Only vaguely aware that he was falling, Sam crashed. The impact of his collapse flicked water drivels upward in splatter.

Through a foggy head, Dean spooled, spinning over several times. It was the only tactic he could manipulate. He skidding back, knocking his head on the edge of the counter before spinning back several feet. His bound hands, limiting his options, shoved forwards as the snaking bonds dug into his flesh. Intent won out and soon his fingers grazed the fire extinguisher, spraying anything that got too close.

Recovering enough, Sam shot up, nailing the nearest stuffed toy with a swift kick. Just as soon as one was sent hurdling back, a new wave of toys attacked in battalions: bears, dolls, cars, snakes, rabbits, lizards- A legion as far as Sam could see with no end in sight. Adding more danger, yellow plastic covered every inch of the floor in front of the main exit, ensuring the Winchesters couldn't effectively run.

When his mind erratically gave him an idea, Dean let impulse lead him. For half a second he thought the lack of air had affected his reasoning, however dismissed it. Jumping further back in the store, he almost flew back onto the checkout counter. He soared with another lunge, grabbing at a mirror meant to deter shoplifting.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"

"Get back here! Ha Plastic" Ripping the highly polished, curved synthetic from its socket, he leaped before it had even left the bracket. He took a running start on the Slip 'N' Slide, gaining speed until he dove in the warped plastic mirror, like a toboggan sled.

Leaning to one side and tilting his makeshift craft, he glided on the slip and slide, gaining speed. His aim held true and he knocked Sam off his feet, pulling him in for the ride.

"This is insane!"

"Just kick!"

As soon as the front door approached, they both swiveled to pump hard at the closed entrance. The front lock splintered under the pressure and the mirror sled scraped on the gravel of the concrete storefront. As soon as the laws of traction and friction restored, the mirror screamed to a stop, sending the Winchesters to complete the trajectory on their own.

Sam and Dean rolled hard and for several seconds they could only push out labored breaths.

"You okay?" Sam yanked viciously to break the joints of the bindings on Dean's hands.

"No! You?"

"Bit annoyed. No, pissed. Yeah, that officially sucked. The arm?"

"It'll be okay."

Dean jerked at his flannel shirt, tearing a large ban of it off the bottom, fastening the Sam's arm into a sling. "You need that checked out."

"It's fine. Just sore."

"Was it just me or did we seriously piss that store off!"

"You sure Damien doesn't own that store?"

"At this point, I think Satan is in there!" Dean bellowed at the toys still lurking in the door, waiting for the next battle.

"You didn't answer. You okay?"

"I'll live." Dean pulls out the small studs from his jeans.

"At least your jeans are highly fashionable now."

"FUNNY! For teenage girls! Man, these are my favorite jeans."

"Not anymore."

Sam, they have my best gun in there. I have to-"

"Later." Sam rubbed at the tender wound in his shoulder. "They got my gun, too. Good thing we have no bullets or they would likely shoot us. Not like we don't have more weapons and it can't be traced, so stop worrying. It knows we'll be back. Look at them. Vultures."

"Hungry little fu-"

Footsteps echoed, loud and thunking, yet slow. When the boys snapped towards the sound, the shadow moving around the corner was unmistakable.

"That fat bastard!"

"Wha-?"

"The banker I told you about. The one I met a few days ago."

Sam let his confusion clear. The scoff in his voice maddened. The answer just hit him, the banker. He was here the night the owner died. "That asshole."

"I can agree with you there."

"We've been missing something."

"A very large something. Ten to one, jelly-bellied banker knows what. Let's do this while the night is young. I want my gun."

"We best clear out before someone calls the cops with all the racket. We can't do anything else tonight."


	10. Stuff 'N' Puff

* * *

Bang. Bang. Bang.

"You sure this is where the swine lives?"

"Oh yeah." A scowl gathered on Sam's face. "You sfure it was him?"

"Yeah, he's not one you forget easily or miss. Roughly the size of a barge."

Bang Bang! Knocking hard, Sam lobbed a fist into the wood door.

"TO HELL WITH THIS!" Dean, not one for ceremony, kicked the door in, actually relishing the sound it made.

When the door bounced back, he could see Louis loading a gun, unsuccessfully. "Leave me alone."

"Uh... no." Dean whirled the man around, slamming him hard against the wall, knocking the weapon out of his hands.

"I'll call the cops."

"Go ahead, but I say you would be dead by morning." Dean warned.

"Yeah. Pretty much."

"You can't kill me. Don't you know who I am!"

"Not that we care." Sam muttered, closing the now broken door the best he could.

When Louis used his mass to shift Dean, he managed somehow to struggle out of his tight grip only to smack right into Sam. He froze as the Winchesters glared at him with eyes and expressions hard steel in focus.

"Sorry, I haven't introduced my brother. But, he is familiar with your work." Dean grinned.

"I don't know what you mean. You ruffians!"

"Hear that, he called us ruffians."

"I heard." Sam shook his head.

"See that usually upsets us, but you know coming from you that means...absolutely nothing."

"We want to know what you were doing at the store. What have you-"Sam pushed his shirt back, making sure Teinturier saw the handle of his gun.

"It was Jalil. He did this. I was just trying to get my money back."

"On something that doesn't belong to you." Dean accused, raising a fist. Simmering anger left filled him with new focus. All thoughts of sarcasm rolled away. "Tell us what happened. One glance at baker was all Dean needed before his hunter and protective instincts took over. Anger rolled in his focus. He hadn't planned such a contrasting transition, but the more the banker made excuses, the more it torked him off.

Whirling the banker around to face him so rapidly, his steely locked arms was all the kept the banker from falling face first. "I think it's time you tell me everything. I'm not in the mood for anything less!"

His voice sent shockwaves through the Louis, who was unsure if he feared Dean or the spirit more.

"I want some answers! Whatever game you are playing-"

"Answers! Who the hell are you?!!? You come into town and destroy everything… if you hadn't interfered with my spell."

"I got in the way…hahaa… Were you trying to get yourself killed?" Dean threw up his hands, cutting off any idea of listening to weak ass excuses.

"Whatever you've done is going to get people killed. We tried to stop it tonight, but it really fought back. It almost suffocated him." Sam rolled up a fist. "And I've lost my sense of amusement with this town and especially you."

"Wow. Record. Sam hates you in five seconds. I never saw that before. Damn, call Guinness."

"The beer or the record book?"

"Both!"

"I'd tell us what you have done before he moves on to ire and then pissed..."

"I can't get rid of his place for love or money. I just lost the last buyer again. One night there and she lost her nerve."

"The lady who was cleaning the shop the day I came in?"

"Yes. I let her in early before closing, hoping to unload. I'm losing a fortune. I was trying to ward off Jalil's spell."

"We'll the next time you decide to cast spells you don't understand- just put a bullet in your head. Plant a bomb or something. It's quicker." Dean tried not to let his anger get the better of him, but the more he walked down the path, the angrier he was

"Chamani is haunting the place. I only called the underworld."

"That's not Chamani...or even Legba." Sam offered. "You screwed with something you don't understand and now you've trapped whatever the hell else is in there."

"Stupid mother, I could have lost Sam thanks to your suicidal stupidity! Are you crazy enough to go after things you don't understand half cocked?!"

"What did you call?"

"Kalfu! I just wanted Jalil gone!"

"Crap."

"Oh, we're back to deep crap again." Dean huffed in a breath, shaking his head.

Sam smirked and titled his head in a way Dean knew things were about to get much worse. "He called the opposite of Legba. I think Chamani's protection was all that held them back."

"Which means, Mr. Stuff 'N' Puff- the thing you summoned is coming here."

"That's not possible."

"And you're such an expert."

"Hey, don't believe us." Sam shrugged. "We called off Legba to set things right and your evil gets free reign."

"I'd say nice knowing him, but even I can't lie about that! But if you want every day to be the Nightmare before Christmas, go right head."

"You can't let it have me."

"Sure we can. Sam?"

"I vote yes."

"Good of you, but you were always so socially conscious with making your vote count.

"We'll since legally we are listed as dead, I vote whenever I can."

"How can you laugh as that thing will kill me?"

"I don't like you. Seems to be enough. Now, Nadiya I like her."

"You can't. You have to help me."

"He did ask, Dean."

"Yeah, but I think he can't afford our payment plan."

"Anything!"

"Get the deed!" Dean beamed.

"I never said…"

"You want to face that thing again? You called it, so later on when it scares everyone away and it gets bored, who do you think it's coming for at the top of the list."

"No… no…"

"Cause right now we are the only ones in its way. We leave and it will come after your ass. Now, be a good boy and get the papers or we won't be so hospitable. Move it."

"This is extortion."

"He's using the big words now, Dean. We are in real trouble."

"Oh, yeah. Want to call a cop… I'll dial. Hey Sam… how does help a nasty spirit is trying to shank my ass and now I'm being blackmailed sound?"

"Think I read that in the enquirer."

"You bast…"

"Uh…uh...uh... be a good little slimeball."

Sam moved in closer, his frame standing a good foot above Louis. "And if you think of welching on this, I'll call it back. Make sure it torments you forever."

So nervous his hands shook, Teinturier dug into his office drawer, flicking and shifting papers.

Sam whispered, covering his voice with a cough. "You know that thing most likely can't leave the store."

"Yeah, but he doesn't have to know that."


	11. Never stab Santa

As Dean clanked the metallic knocker, shards of paint flicked onto his hands from the Nadiya's front door. He dusted them off out of habit, not that he looked his best slightly wet with a ripped shirt and jeweled pant legs.

"Nadiya?" Sam bellowed. "We need to talk to you."

"Hello! Santa's here!" Lack of response pulled the corner of Dean's lips into a grimace. "Well, I don't like this."

"You have what you want, just let me go." Teinturier barked.

"Not so fast, you're going to explain the spell work that you've done and hope that she find herself gracious to let us help you." Sam yanked at the banker's shirt collar, hefting him up another step.

"Keep an eye on him; I'm going to check it out. What if chuckles here really did call in something that came after Chamani's family?" He began to torture the lock, prying at it. In true Dean fashion, the door opened without much of a fight.

Stepping through first, Dean scrutinized the room, studying for any sign of danger. His hand moved out, feeling a wall for a light switch in the pitch-blackness of the house. "Nadiya!"

Just as he called her name, a scream slammed into his ears. He whirled to see almost a blur of movement running towards him. The enraged shriek still echoed throughout the house. He may not have seen his attacker at first, but he recognized a glint of steel when he saw one. An elongated bony spike drove down towards him, aiming right for his jugular.

"WHOA!" He grasped the wrist that brandished the emaciated steel, turning it away from him. Only when he heard a yelp did he release the rotation upon the appendage. "Slow down there, hellcat."

"Chew Bastard!"

"Whoa. It's me."

The weapon plunged forward with the sharp point burrowing a ridge into his forearm. "Me who? Chew are messin' with the wrong woman! Teinturier's goon will not find warm welcome here!"

An arm wrapped around her neck and slammed her harder against him. "Slow down now. I'm not with him." Snaking out his other hand, he covered the small wrist in his palm, freeing her of the weapon. When he finally saw what it was, he had to chuckle. "Hey, hey, now. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to use people as Voodoo dolls? That's one hell of a needle."

Stamping his foot, she whipped around, twisting his arm until Dean slammed against the floor. She straddled his torso. "It's a knitting needle, you imbecile."

"Sam! You going to help me or what?"

"Not really, I was getting a kick out of this." Sam crossed the threshold and managed to locate the light switch, filling the room with illumination. "But, he's right I can't let you punch him full of holes, no matter how tempting it may be."

"CHEW!" Her hands remained balled in a fist, grasping a long steel blue rod in her fingers, ready to sock Dean a good one.

"Yeah of course, Me. I tried to tell you." Dean winked giving her a less than confident smile that wrinkled the bridge of his nose.

"What are chew—" Realizing her accent had spilled out, she got herself in check. "What are you doing here? Scaring me to death!"

"At the moment, enjoying this position." Dean beamed.

"I thought you were nice, not in league." She stood awkwardly, blushing at the glint in Dean's eyes.

"We're not and if you want to get up, I can explain." When Dean glanced back, he groaned at the amazed amusement on Sam's face. "I thought something bad happened to you when you didn't answer."

"Why would anything bad happen to me?" Her knowing smiled radiated, but her face flushed as she scampered off Dean, so they both could get up. She kept her weapon close just in case.

"You don't need that." Sam pushed Louis forward so he had space to shut the door. "So you don't know anything about the toy store?"

"If you're not worried, then why attack me with the largest needle I have ever seen."

"You… you scared me. A single girl on her own has to defend herself."

"Not the reaction I hoped for, but we'll work on it." Dean tried to smirk, but his face drew down into seriousness. "And I think you know something about what your father did the night he died."

"I've done nothing!"

"Told you these people are like worms!" Louis accused.

"SHUT UP!" Sam and Dean both screamed.

"What's wrong Louis? Is my father getting to you?"

"I'm sorry--" Dean shook his head.

"Your Dad's gone." Sam finished.

"He can't take the heat of getting what he deserves! I won't betray my pops. Chew can forget me…"

Dean's hand drifted to her cheek and pulled her face back to his steady gaze. Somehow, he had to be the one to tell her, even though it would dash her hopes. "Your father's not there. Everything's just jumbled because it hurts. I know--- I know he's gone and it sucks."

"You know nothing."

"I know death."

"I don't even know who you are."

"I'm Dean. Remember?"

"No, I'm too stupid I forgot! Just some man that liked my pop's toy."

"Yeah, I did. And no one will ever replace him or his skill. But, this is where I'm skilled. This is my business. Trust me. The thing in that store is not your father. I almost wish I could give you that lie, but I can't. It tried to kill me tonight."

"Impossible."

"It did." Sam spoke backing up his brother. "Someone is going to get hurt and we can stop it, if you'll help. "

"I have no desire to save him from his own greed."

"Would your father want innocent people hurt?"

"Or even guilty one like him?"

"No, he would-"

"If I'm any judge of character on how he raised you, I-"

"Pops is gone?" His expectations of anger and pain were dead wrong as her white drained face displayed defeat.

Small flicks of his fingers embraced her cheeks in comfort. "Listen to me. I know it hurts. It's not your father and if you let it use you, it will feed off you and hurt others. We need your help. Mayor McChessy over there messed up."

"We think he tried to counter your Dad's protection spell and some deadlock happened." When Louis backed away, Sam yanked him around to face Nadiya.

Dropping his hand, Dean gave her a sigh of sympathy and he didn't mind the fact she grabbed and then squeezed his hand for a second. "All this time I thought pops had come back to me and now- now you tell me I've been used."

"I'm sorry."

"But, you knew it was there." Sam questioned.

"I knew about the call to Legba. Pop was always a believer, but when all the stories started, it seemed like my father's style."

"We think he never got through the entire ceremony, but enough to open the door." Sam offered.

"We think that now." Dean corrected. "Sam and I know a bit about the religion, but we need some help on this one. We weren't raised to call these spirits-"

"They are Loas."

"We were trying to stop the spell before we knew Teinturier was monkeying with his own brand of jackass magic." Dean's eyebrows narrowed.

"What were chew doing?"

Cowering behind Sam, Louis shook. "This is all Jalil's fault. If he hadn't--"

"Hey, hey! Watch your mouth." Dean warned.

"He called Kalfu. Dean and I know-"

"Teinturier, you stupid mother… "

"Told you I liked this girl."

"This is bad!" She lowered her head as if disgusted. "Kalfu is dangerous and not to be trifled with! I should skin you, Louis. You pompous TICK!"

"How can we stop him?" Sam moved forward away from Louis, mainly from the sound of warm puddle splashed on the floor.

"It takes more than pissing your pants to stop this. Ignorant meddler." Nadiya mumbled insults incoherently.

"We thought we sealed the door, but we focused on your father's work." Sam bit his lips.

"So you gave Kalfu free reign."

"Afraid so." A hiss passed Dean's lips without a hint of sarcasm.

"Whatever happened, it had more energy and we couldn't stop it." Sam shoved a lock of his still slightly damp hair.

"Hear me out. If it was just weasel boy over there, I would let the thing have him, but these things don't stop. This spell work is beyond us, but we are hoping you can give us a clue."

"Don't flatter yourself! You have no idea what you are dealing with. This work is dark and likes to cross out souls without any regard-."

Just then Louis bolted, almost tripping out the door.

"Stupid!" Dean moved as if to bolt after the portly banker, but Nadiya stepped in his path, shaking her head.

"Let him go. He's useless anyway, the coward."

"Should put a curse on him of a thousand boils or something." Dean inquired. "But how would you tell the difference from his sparkling personality."

"You don't give up do you? Just like me father."

"Oh, being compared to the father-- total bummer."

"Don't know. That was one of my father's best qualities." She smiled at Dean.

"Ahem. Kalfu." Sam coughed naturally. "Legba is twined by Kalfu so the spell should have worked. I sprinkled the portals and sealed to doorway to the-"

"Ah. You closed the door to Legba only. That is minor work. Kalfu can be viscous even when given the proper respect. He controls the crossroads but also the evil forces of the spirit world. Some people claim he is a demon."

"Demons! Why does it have to be demons?" Dean shook his head. "Course he invited a demon in. Nice. Really nice."

"Afraid so. Can you tell me what happened tonight when-"

"We got a little too much playtime." He gave a curt nod.

As they relayed the story, she listened carefully, giving no indication if the information pleased her or made a bit of difference one way or another.

"Pops tried to call Legba to open the door for good luck. Teinturier is a powerful believer in the spirits, when he wants to make a show with de people, but has just enough brains to count his money, but he has to take his shoes off."

"I doubt he could even take care of that. Do you know take Kalfu down?" Sam winced as he moved his punctured arm too much in the sling.

"You can't kill him. I think Louis was trying to get a balance and ward of my father's work. Me Pops didn't get finished and it was only holding Kalfu back. Kalfu allows the crossing of bad luck, deliberate destruction, misfortune, and injustice. This sort of bad luck is right up his alley."

"So how do we send him back?" Sam rephrased

"We can't."

"This is going just extremely well." Dean muttered, tossing off his torn shirt overshirt, trying to put on some semblance of charm.

"Papa Legba can. He would not hurt anyone and only he may have the power to stop him."

"Can you call him? Get him to help?" Sam eyed her as she rifled in books from a shelf, pulling down a hand written journal.

"I can ask for him. If Kalfu set up house, I don't think I can do anything to him from here. From what you say, the shop is where we have to be and that may be too dangerous."

"What if we can keep them off of you, could you do something then?" Sam glanced over her shoulder, reading what he could.

"How can you-"

"We know what we're dealing with. How would Kalfu deal with disrespect?" Dean cocked his head, obviously full of himself for some reason.

"Any Loa would be furious."

Sam gave his brother a knowing smile, but focused on Nadiya's nervous shake. "Are you willing to do this? We won't force you."

"Like to see you try. Pops wouldn't want anything of his bringing sorrow to the world. Making children happy always brought him joy."

"You miss it?"

"Always."

"I'm sorry about your Dad. He sounds pretty great. And if you're going to continue his work, you will need a place to set up shop." Reaching in his jacket, Dean shuffled the deed like a magician splaying out cards. "Sign, sealed, and legal."

"How did you?"

"Told you I was Santa! Let's reclaim your store. Uncle Scrooge banker wants us to save his hide, so he was very cooperative."

"He does know this is not Christmas, right?"

Sam shook his head. "I can never tell. It's best to keep him amused and away from shiny objects. Distracting him with food seems to work too."

"How did you make-?"

"We forced him to sign it over or the boogieman would get him."

"That's illegal." She offered.

"And probably immoral too. We like it like that." Dean winked.

"Think you can come up with a way to get Kalfu out?

"I can do the spell easily enough, but it may get ugly."

"Heck, Ugly is Sam's middle name."

Sam scoffed. "And Dean's is Jackass."

"Do you boys fight like this all the time?"

"Pretty much." Sam admitted.

"Hmm." He eyebrows arched upwards, deep in thought.

"What?" Trying to smile, Dean squirmed as she gave him the once over.

"That's kinda hot."


	12. Meet Again

It was the middle of the night, when the trio returned to the into the store. The deserted street were even more bare than they had been just hours ago. The only company that visited the cobblestones that night were the Winchesters, Nadiya, and a wind filled plastic grocery bag, which puffed up like a parachute and rolled passed them as if it had more sense to get away than humans did.

"Why isn't this place crawling with cops?"

"Kalfu. He can make things appear as he wants dem to be."

"You sure this ritual will work?" Dean pushed several fully loaded clips into his jean pocket.

"It should."

"You have better ideas?" Arching a shotgun over his good shoulder, Sam groaned.

With a ceremoniously clap, Dean ratcheted a full loaded clip in his gun, tucking the loaded weapon among the others in the arsenal he collected. Strapping on another holster, Dean shoved another just under his arm.

"Do you have enough yet, Rambo?" Sam painted a fake glower on, and then broadly smiled.

"I owe these puppies… BIG TIME."

"I thought it was a... what exactly are Teletubbies?"

"Sicko purse carrying bastards." Dean dug inside the car trunk, shoving as many weapons as he could, where he could, almost to the point of being too heavy to carry.

No one bothered to reply.

"Is he always like this?" Nadiya mixed

Sam chuckled as he watched Dean struggle to put another gun in already full waistband. "Pretty much." There was flatness to Sam's voice in that instant, low and steady. "Just the way he is."

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No. No. Not at all. Just got a lot on my mind."

"And Dean has a way of making it difficult to focus?"

"Nah. He makes it difficult to dwell on the bad things."

"So his behavior is intentional?"

"Debatable!" Sam chuckled. "But don't let him fool you. He's taking this job seriously."

"I wasn't suggesting that he wasn't. I just wondered how he could be so-"

"Full of it."

Now, it was her turn to laugh. "Maybe. I'm scared out of my mind and he's so relaxed. Why would he want to help me?"

"You know after all this time, I still don't know why he reaches out to help people. He just always did. Sometime I guess he just believe someone will be there for him. Had a long list of hard knocks." The pensive expression returned. "It's one of the reason I fight so hard for him cause he uses all his energy for everyone else."

"Did I touch a sore subject? I didn't mean-"

"Don't worry about it. Kinda used to the 800 pound gorilla topic in the room. It's not you."

"We named the gorilla Jabba! You two ready?" Dean called out, shifting awkwardly. Raising his index finger twirling it like a sit and spin. "Or do you want to continue this very special episode of Maury Povich?" With his cache tucked away and overflowing, Dean has an arsenal that would give the Terminator heated envy.

"We're waiting for you."

"Arm?"

"Fine."

"Good, cover my six then." Dean politely shoved Sam aside, demanding to be the first to enter the back door.

"Good manners." Nadiya followed between them and then grew silently. "What in..." Nadiya muttered, eyeing the previous mess. It was only now that she really noticed the bad shape the store was in."Did a tornado go here?"

"Hurricane Dean. Kind of." Sam gave her a pitiful smile as he navigated her forward to the counter.

Dean scooped out a handful of salt drawing an awkward, off kilter circle just between the back storage and the main store.

"I'd like to apologize for any damage ahead of time." Sam offered.

"Do wreak havoc every place you go?"

"If I say yes will that make me less in your eyes?" Dean batted his eyes suggestively as he finished his salt creation.

"I hope your art skills aren't reflective of-"

"Hey, in evil hunting, neatness doesn't count. Only effective use of weapons. Now, You." Dean pointed with emphatic emphasis, sounding a bit like William Shatner as he paused between each word. "Stay inside the line."

"Salt?"

"Believe me- demons and spirits don't like- and I hope Laos don't either."

"Salt symbolizes purity and sanctity and the covenant of salt is one that cannot be broken. You know a long time ago they use to put salt in coffins to keep away Satan. Who would have guessed there was truth in that."

"Sam, I really like this girl."

"Love connection later unless you want one on one time with a stuffed pal."

"He always spoils the fun. Doesn't have much of a sense of humor. Come on, this is going to be fun."

"Is he always like this too?"

"Uh... yeah... uh... Pretty much."

"Just stay here behind the salt line no matter what you hear. I can take care of myself. Sam will protect you."

"Who says I need protection?"

"I do." He winked, giving her the slightest pucker of his lips.

"Men... such dogs."

"Woof."

"Don't encourage him."

"I'm a wolf... leader of-"

"Aww!"

Dean snorted into a laugh then turned serious. "Watch that arm. I don't think they'll play fair."

"I can take care of myself."

As Nadiya took out her things, a small toy car crossed the salt line, which was the first causality as Sam large boot smashed it to pieces.

"Guess that answers one question." Sam nodded.

"The toys can cross the line." Dean bit his lip and lowered his voice. "Watch out for her. She's feisty enough to take on Kalfu with her bare hands."

Insanely annoying laughter erupted and Sam bowed his head."That's not..."" He whirled and aimed their weapons up in the standby position.

"Ha ha...Playtime. I'll take care of Barney and Friends. Damn, who hasn't wanted to say that?" With a yell, Dean hit the ground running, swung out of the back storeroom and hurdled into the vacant, quiet space in the front, while firing two 45's. Twisting and turning his body as if he could stop freeze in a Matrix pose, Dean landed as many bullets as he could. It may have appeared slightly ridiculous, but a wise decision as the minute he crossed over into the main store, a silent alarm of awakening triggered in his unwelcome friends.

Sam ducked behind the counter, pulling the daughter with him, carefully keeping her in what may be a useless salt line with him as he peaked out firing a shot. If nothing else, the appearance of safety might quell the woman's nerves until the spell was finished. He blazed another round, landing a bull's-eye on Care Bear's sunshine emblem. Toy stuffing exploded in a fluff of white snow from all directions. Just as it pitched forward, it scrambled back to life in their half-destructed form to fight on. "Watch it!" Sam screamed.

Nadiya breathed the word "shit" as she ducked out of the way, leaning against a back wall. This was much worse than she imagined and her hands fumbled to draw a symbol on the hardwood floor. The lines shuttered out shaky and crooked as the symbol took shape like a directional compass on a map with arrows on all sides. Then, the lines were extended to add ovals that liked like different directional lines. She filled one pitch black, leaving one hollow and pure. "One for Legba. One for Kalfu- the keepers ends of the crossroads."

"You're doing good. Keep going." Sam fired, ever watchful of Dean's position and Nadiya. They had taken cover in the back room, a few feet away from the main action, yet too close for real protection. A loud burst of fire came as the girl began to speak again. An angry, protesting growl bellowed from the depths of the store as she continued.

Sam, glancing up out of wanton expectation to protect Dean, forced his hands to work, knowing Dean would call if there were anything serious. As he viewed the battle in progress, Dean wasted two skeletal dragonfly robots, swarming the air above. A second later, Dean had pinned down a group of four ninja turtles with one highly skilled buckshot round.

Dean fired two more shots, taking out two overly active Barney's- one mid obnoxious giggle. Even though he locked in fighting mode, he flashed a smile wondering if mother's everywhere would be indebted to him for that one. He fired a round of buckshot. Hit a Darth Vader in the helmet chest and catching a hello kitty in the chest, which jerked back violently in a cascade of pink.

Sam peeked out and fired his magnum. The full magazine caught in the chest of a Barbie, blasting her off her feet next to a napping and yapping dog that Dean managed to punt kick to kingdom come.

Yet, Dean had run into trouble. When he came round, his first instinct was to fire, but a massive league of toys had formed behind him, making a beeline for Sam. Before he got to it, someone had leaped on him from nowhere. A hand grabbed him from behind while another wrestled to take a shotgun from him. It went off, spraying right into the throng of plastic and stuffing.

"PO!"

"So we meet again!"


	13. Hang Around

"Not this time." Dean blared the gun right in Po's face, squeezing the trigger in satisfaction. "Die, puppet bitch!"

"So much for true love!" Sam took out four Elmos that just started to leap from the shelf nearest him when he saw Dean smite the teletubbie. As soon as any toy crossed Dean's protective threshold, Sam fired a round at the beast, watching as plastic melted and fused in puddles.

Suddenly blocks of Lego splattered about his head, showering him with primary colored pieces. "Sorry!" Dean muttered, still holding onto the tail of the Lego construction he just whipped into the wall nearest to them. Yet, he didn't have time to gloat, as more and more drew life from Kalfu's magic.

"Mommy!" Locks of golden curls hung from a doll's face, swinging rhythmically as she walked. Her fake tear ducts leaked down, leaving a trail of wet. As she stalked stiff legged, mummified in forever-hard plastic, her squeaky, high-pitched voice shattered out broken. "MOMMY!!!"

"OH HELL NO!"

Boring a slug smack into the center of dolly's head, Dean laughed as the doll splattered backward. Within seconds, she righted herself, shuffling back with her walk of unbending knees. With a quick blast of his shotgun, he fired clipping and freeing her of one hollow plastic leg.

The doll toppled on its belly, begun to crawl and slip slug like towards him, making squishy noises all along the floor from the tear repository.

"That's just gross. Come on!"

"We're working as fast as we can!" He heard Sam scream.

His slithering foe, scuffled around, zigging and zagging in a straight line for Dean. For all his seasoned hunting experience, he shuttered when the doll bore down on him with the creepiest of stares. It was only then that Dean truly felt he had witness the evil eye. Even a case of the willies didn't stop him from fighting as he kicked his unclaimed toy child in a perfect field goal, game winning drive.

For every one he took down, Kalfu shook the foundations of the store and reawakened more minions to battle. Several toys all stacked on top of one another in an attacking totem. Storm Troopers marched in single lines, advancing like a swarm of bees at his feet. Little hands grabbed at Dean endeavoring to take him down.

Wildly danced around, he tried to stay one step away from them. He aimed at anything that moved whether it was alive or not. When one gun emptied, he grabbed onto another holster, not bothering to reload. The important thing was to keep the toys at bay. If he managed to stay just out of reach, he could give Sam and Nadiya the time they needed. He got his way for a few seconds as his movements slipped beyond frozen toy grips. Whether it was from gun blasts or Dean's perpetual movement, he held the toy army at bay. Several crying toys smacked on the ground, screaming in a tantrum and bawling little dolly hearts out. One head popped off a toy soldier but it regained its footing and marched back into the foray.

As everything sprang to life, a dinosaur skeleton went for Nadiya's throat, but Sam deflected it easily. Chopping the boney attacker with a sharp, serrated knife until piles of sharp plastic lay before them.

Her voice shook after Sam's carving section, but her hands kept moving, adding a small circle in the center. "Doorway…we create the doorway between this world and the next. Papa Legba- traveler- bring protection." She traced symbols on a black stone, placing in her circle.

"How much longer?"

"Soon!"

"Almost there, Dean!" Sam fired at the next line of defense, flying several toys beyond Dean's position to a far wall.

Sam noticed Dean give a nod, acknowledging he was okay and thanks for the cover.

Without knowing if Sam saw his gesture, Dean continued to battle, sweat pouring down on him as a thousand tiny things clamored for his end. It was only now that he understood the phrase death by a thousand cuts, or in his case overwhelmed by the most harmless of things.

Furry squirrels dashed past his feet, tripping him. A sword poked him in the bottom and he rolled over, grabbing a gun to blast a pirate to Davy Jones' Locker. The figure flew into distance, but more and more toys took its place. A sound like that of thunder echoed in the distance. Without time to react, he tried to somersault to a new location, but even as the jump rope clattered about his ankle, he shoved a finger in the binds, desperately trying to get free. A sudden rush later, he was vaulted leg first towards the ceiling, attaching him to a rafter, which held displays. The blood rushed to his head as a thousand plastic things marched for him.


	14. Spin

Faced with undeniable capture and forced immobility, Dean did what he does best, improvised. Rocking himself, a human pendulum, he weaved, forcing his body to spin. Dean's trigger finger immediately depressed as he whipped around in a slow 360. The jump rope protested, wrapping around his leg, which withstood a bearable morsel of strain. When the rope twisted as far as comfort would allow-too much by normal standards, but Dean never considered himself normal-, he used the momentum to roll counterclockwise, firing an arch the opposite direction.

If anything, the maneuver caught the minions with their tiny plastic diapers down as Dean went about dispatching stuffing, stitches, and formed plastic parts, which flew to scatter in a torrent throbbing mass of toys.

For those that survived, a steady derision growl crooned in a strange unison. As a projectile, a bright green orb, zipped towards Dean, he shifted too much, managing to get out of the way of one danger and straight into another. "Dammit!" Whatever it was smashed into the front window, slamming the glass, but instead of falling to the sidewalk, it lingered in mid- air, turned, and sent jagged shards back at him. He wheeled, aiming to let his back take the main brunt of it. As he spun, a sharp pain nailed into his forearm- an obvious hit. He blanket-fired around him at the floor, emptying both revolvers and then searched for any gun he may have left tucked away within reach.

Sam angled up, keeping his shots and eyes level, mindful of Dean's predicament. Once, he aimed for the rope, nicking it just enough to launch Dean into a tailspin or in this case a leg spin. With no success, mainly due to the attacks overrunning his own position, Sam readied to make a rescue. As he stood, ready to run for Dean, metallic, cylinder blades swooped, making for a vein in his neck. Firing twice, he changed the discs' course, but an uproarious clank resounded as cymbals lodged in the dry wall behind him.

"Holy shit!" Shaking, Nadiya dropped two candles, watching one roll into the nest of toys. Quickly, she groped, feeling something sink into her extending fingers, yet she rummaged until the candle was grasped in her sweaty, bloody palm.

"Okay?"

"Yes! Keep at them. Dean?"

"I've got him!" With Dean, strung high, his defensive line was broken and more and more started to break through. Sam and Nadiya held in tight position, backing against the wall, far from the circles protection. A wave of toys rose up as if they were a tide ready to crash down on them. Sam reloaded as they advanced.

"Hurry!"

"I'm trying." Nadiya's hands moved endless over her drawing, working the spell she had seen her father do many times. "Spit upon it and set it within the box." She tossed a hand full of bitter weeds in the drawing- chicory and dandelion.

Each time Sam moved, he found his path blocked. There was no time to get to Dean as the play army overtook the corner. Sam tossed Nadiya a gun, instructing her to fire blindly. Luckily, aiming wasn't really a problem as their opponents throbbed onward like a cockroach infestation that breeded well beyond any exterminator's skill.

When Sam lost sight of Dean, he bellowed just to make sure.

"Sam!"

Relieved as he heard a voice answer him, he covered Nadiya with his own body when her gun clicked empty. What his gun couldn't take, he trashed, kicked, and punched, but he was like a cracking dam, trying to hold back a flood. "We're almost there."

"HELP ME, SAM!"

For the briefest second, Sam froze and then began to wade, shoot, kick, and scramble. The notion of Dean asking for help branded incomparable horror in his mind. He managed to advance a few feet when his keen eyes caught sight of something hovering in front of his brother. Then the dark shadow, oozing like tar pit, approached Dean and bore strange gaze eye to eye as Dean hung upside down. Alarm crammed in Sam's trigger finger, pressing the digit down as he soon as he had steady aim. The bullet ripped throught the air, and then impotently passed inside Kalfu and out without the slightest smidge of damage.

"What the hell-" Sam froze. "Dammit, Kalfu's here and that didn't touch him."

No warning or idle dialogue came from the dusky form, whose dark fingers warped around Dean's throat. Another appendage flew up, raveling in midair towards Sam.

"Turned to stone, wits turned front to back. Limbs be bound as I mark this seal. Light these fertile candles. Legba consume this evil spirit. I beseech your help to bind us from-" Nadiya called and a hollow hiss, static and ending, trembled through toy and humans.

When a flash of light exploded- more like an implosion or fusion of light-, it splattered from all directions. The force of the presence flung Sam and Nadiya, mere whips in the strength, to slam against the back wall. In fact, everything leveled inside the blast, falling and crashing away, except Dean, who draped like a prize to slaughter, and the thing that Sam presumed to be Kalfu.

A whirlpool of wind made a crackle of thunder, ripping Kalfu and minions high in the air. The toys scattered about and swept up in a gush of gale force.

"It's Legba, Sam!" She covered her eyes as the force around them picked up, gaining momentum and speed.

Regardless of who or what they called, Sam had to free Dean. He jumped to his feet only to be whipped back from the cyclone show in front of him.

Electric sounded, popping and hissing. It was only with a vague awareness that Dean glanced up, staring at two very distinct entities, grappling it out in a massive spin cycle. Soon the spinning action took Dean around with it. The jump rope laced at his feet dug in deep, refusing to release, as he dangled, leg first, helpless to get out of the way. Dizzily he spun, body whipping against the secure nature of his fastened, now a wrenching and gyrating leg. "Get it off! Get it off!" He felt his leg start to pop, crying to break free from the socket and a shattering sensation lancing up his right thigh.

The persistent grinding at his bone joint grew blinding hot as flashes of black and purple seemed already to be forming. Spots formed permanent resident on his eyes, stealing vision and inducing nausea. The only sensation he registered was pain- throbbing, aching, and burning. The rest of his leg quivered with torture, and blood and perspiration collected, pouring down his leg. Soon he would be free all right, but just as sure, he thought part of him would still be hanging from this damn jump rope.


	15. Sassy, Call Disney

A supernova boomed with enough suction to rend the building from its foundation. At one point, it seemed impossible to gain further output, yet increase it did. It was all Sam could do to hold on to his own position. His sweaty fingers grabbed at the counter edge, latching until he could feel a splinter imbed in his thumb. His fingers ached, numb and tender, with the effort of balling his fist so tight around the counter. Finally, he tossed away his sling, using even the injured arm for leverage and ignoring the pain. Finding a bit of a foothold, he miserably attempted to aim for the rope on Dean's ankle, finding the target moved too much to guarantee a sure thing shot. Last thing Dean needed was a few bullet holes ventilating him.

"ARGGGH…Get it OFF!"

Hearing his brother's pleas, he battled a few steps into the dizzy tornado until his efforts were thanked with a hard smack and scooting across the floor. When he heard the large crack, finding his brother dangling at odd angle, he forced himself back up. "DAMMIT!" His eyes just began to digest Dean's swollen, bulging leg.

Before the eldest Winchester processed what happened, his head gushed with heat and a strangled cry of agony pealed out of this throat. His shivered in pain, with a cold sweat broken out across his body. He gasped as another excruciating wave of torture hollowed down to his marrow. For a moment, he paralyzed by physical pain and intense chaos. Finally, consumed by raw agony, he passed out.

Sam's heart lumped, jumped from his chest, and planned an escape route out his throat. Had he not swallowed, it might have succeeded. He dug his fingers in a claw, scooting on the floor to get close enough to Dean, rather than waiting for battle to end. He didn't have long to wait as forces collided and splattered in an explosion. Driven to cover his eyes from the sheer brightness, he couldn't see rope unraveling or Dean's gentle drift to the floor.

The swirling toys one by one began to waft down, making a neat pile on top of him. Then all was still. If it was over or not, Sam was already moving, not even taking in the status of his surroundings.

Nadiya perplexed. "Where's Dean!?" Her lower lip shook, and her lids burned with unshed tears.

Sam made his way through the remains of a large battle. Frantically he dug and burrowed, tossing toys aside. Moments later, he pulled out the upper portion of an unconscious Dean, who had a large lump throbbing on his head.

Sam's gut twisted into a thousand terrible knots in the icy hands of fear, twisting long fingers in his innards. "Dean, can you hear me?"

Out of blinding sensation, a warm and familiar voice awoke him. Dean shifted between Sam and Nadiya, flopping his head as if unaware of his situation. After a droplet of tears fell on his face, he snapped awake, fixing on the water and desperation falling from Nadiya's eyes and heated vapors of Sam's frantic breathing. His eyes were wide, yet impossibly distant. Sam couldn't hold back a gasp, and noticed Dean's head jerk up in surprise.

Dean shuttered, flicking his eyes. "What's..."

"Don't try to move."

"Tell that to the room." His mouth was dry and his voice cracked, but he rasped out his response.

"I'm serious." She furrowed her brow in sympathy. "Your leg- it..." She froze for a moment at his words, but then shook her head sharply from side to side.

"Huh?"

"Lay still." The words rolling off Sam's tongue felt foreign and wrong.

"What happened?"

"Let me up."

"You're hurt." She screamed. "I'm sorry!"

"For what?" Confused and bewildered, Dean wondered if things had gone off the deep end.

"Don't move."

"Why not?" Dean kicked out, flinging more toys off his lower half. He panted, reached up wiping his sweaty brow.

"You're leg----" Sam grabbed at it, turning it in odd manners and finds no injury. Even the glass that cut done is gone with no sign of injury. "That was a direct hit. " The blood still stained Dean's shirt.

"Get off me. What are you babbling about?"

"You were hurt- I saw--- Don't you."

"Dude, all I can remember is being shoved in someone's idea of a supersized washing machine."

"Legba! Nadiya smiled. "He- he…."

Without interpretation, Sam knew what Nadiya meant and it was only now that he noticed the store, while disheveled, was whole- toys remade, glass repaired, Dean healed. The store restored and made whole. Then Sam noticed the pain in his arm was absent too. "Damn, first time something helped up."

"He is a god after all!" She put an arm under Dean, helping him to sit halfway, only to have him collapse sickened in her arm. "Pure magic," she smiled.

"Ughh..." pushing up more on his elbow and glaring "Call Disney! I think I've made them a new ride.""

"Oh yeah." Sam chuckled in relief more than anything.

"The spin and hurl!"

"You are a bit green."

"See?" she told him. "I told you it would work!" They looked at each other again and smiled, thankful Dean was just woozy.

"Watch him for a minute."

"Where are you going?" Dean demanded.

"To check this out. Just stay still." With intentions of a thorough inspection, Sam pondered how his brother had been miraculous healed and everything repaired. He wasn't ready to let down his guard just yet until he had a final sweep of things.

Meanwhile, Dean was content to get his head settled, but unable to resist a show of his charm. "I wondered when I would get in your arms."

"You could have tried the direct approach. You've been so subtle. And just my arms… hmmmm… pity you're imagination couldn't-"

"Hey, give me a minute. My head's still on the rinse cycle. Though, I remember seeing my leg now… and it wasn't good."

He latched on to her trying to get his bearing, which she seemed to be more than happy to provide. "Legba helped you. He is very generous to those that are the same."

"I don't feel very lucky at the moment"

"Let's see how lucky you are." When her lips locked on his, any arguments to the contrary washed away. Even after Sam coughed and gave an all clear, he took his sweet time in letting the kiss go.

As soon as it did, Sam chuckled as they helped Dean shakily stand. "Let's get you out of here and in the air."

"I'm good. I can walk on my own thanks. You positive it's over?"

"Fork in done."

"Good." Dean then stuffed at least two Teletubbies under his arm, flashing a satisfied smile as he crammed in a Barney for good measure. "Then it's time for target practice!"

"Sorry." Sam gave her a glance.

"What for?"

"He can be like that…if-"

"Are you kidding, I may join him in offing a few myself."

"Ha!" Dean beamed, and lobbed unsteadily, balancing on the doorway.

"Just put them down."

"Told you Sam's a pooper. Hey, I just realized, we just called a trickster and nothing bad happened to us."

"We'll that's a first."

"Man, we kick ass." While he turned a moment to put the toys back, a million tiny sparkly beads encrusted and adorned across the ass of his jeans, splashing and declaring the word Sassy for the world to see.

"Uh… Dean." Nadiya started.

"No. No, just let this battle go." Sam snorted loudly, trying desperately to keep it in. "I'm not telling him." He whispered and Nadiya snickered along. "Yeah. Guess, he didn't live up to your expectations."

"What?"

She walked over to Dean, an obvious sly smile on her lips. Just when she got over to him, her hand unleashed a loud smack to his rear. He flinched, moving right into her incoming brief kiss. "Sassy, don't be a stranger."

"Uh... uh… sure?"

"Did I miss something?"

"Not a thing." She offered.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Dean eyelids narrow to slits as he waited for an answer. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing."

"Sam? Nadiya?"

"Yes, Sassy?" Sam beamed.

* * *

**#####THE END#####**


End file.
